i don't want mine back i just want to keep yoursMature

Sometimes I read your poetry online and even from this distance, even with all these cities and state lines separating us, I can feel the cool hardwood of your floor beneath my feet and the low warmth of the fireplace and taste the red wine staining my lips and I know if I look over at you, you’ll be nose deep into a book and I’ll be twenty two again and wishing I could marry you right there but in a few weeks, I’ll be riding down the elevator with my bags, both of us cursing all this wasted time we can’t take back.

The End

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