Memories of clean streets
And taking a stroll in the woods
Images of a walk into the city
In a sunny and crowded afternoon
The pleasure of cooking for you
And taking pictures of us on the couch
Thoughts of me taking your hand
And you gently freeing yourself
Painting strange things together
On a canvas that has gone lost
A cold airport in the early morning
Me reading “I love you” on your lips
Memories of flying away from you,
But I can’t remember our last kiss.
aliensoulmates 