Everywhere I go, no matter how far I have travelled since, I just can't rid you from my skin.
The wind whispers your name in forms I am not sure of,
While puddles show me your reflection - cracked and distorted.
Bees hum your favourite song,
And peoples footsteps echo the heartbeat of which I long.
Sometimes the morning light tickles my skin,
Just the way your stubble did when you rubbed your face along my chin.
Sometimes I smile the way I did with you,
But then my heart fills up with grief,
Because I realise there's nothing I can do.