Chapter Text
The memory of you is ingrained in songs, things, places, experiences, in my skin, hair, lips, the thinnest thread in my pillowcase. Tainted by the scent of you - how long until it fades? Husky, masculine perfumes and the same conditioner that made me smell like you. The memory of me lives under your skin, humming and buzzing with the blood running through your veins. Although I doubt if I was even there in the first place, that place in your heart I know I’m not the only one who’s been close enough to hear it beat, to find temporary residence. But I cherish the physicality still - the softness of your lips, the way your hair fell in your face after I brushed my fingers through, the weight of your body crushing mine. Is love really so transactional when there is beauty, art, symmetry in the memories made, in the curve of your waist, in the ripple of your back muscles, and in the pressure of your grip pulling me back in close? Arbitrary words I desire to hear once more, superficial that you tell me are genuine, but your eyes lack sincerity - still I miss the way I didn’t believe them (just wanted to hear them). Tell me I’m pretty so I can say I don’t believe you. Tell me you love the way I kiss you and how you wish you could kiss me forever so I can pull away to tease you. Tell me you can’t get enough of me so I can laugh at you and call you corny. Tell me how much you missed me so I can lie through my teeth and bite my tongue when I repeat it back. Tell me I’m yours so that this time, I might finally believe that I am yours.