Tuesday, September 14, 2021

3805 : That which lingers

Sometimes my skind does not smell like me. It smells like you. And you smelt of the ocean. "Like a fisherwoman", I would say and laugh. 

The ocean still grumbles every night.You are long gone. And my skin is losing its shine too.

One day when you are reborn, I will know you from your smell.

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