No pain.
No melancholy.
Endless kisses.
I don't want to forget.
But the taste of you in my mouth feels bitter now and all I want to do is forget.
Afternoons in your room.
Making love.
Making conversation.
Making more love.
Endless love.
Sometimes fucking for recreational purposes.
Hot sex, cold wars.
But always in sync.
The beauty of two souls finding a connection.
It's hard to reach that level of intimacy.
Tell me you've found that with someone else now.
Tell me you're over me.
Tell me you never loved me in the first place.
The first time I dropped acid,
It was surreal.
I couldn't stop kissing your face.
I was in love.
I was in love with you.
You kiss me and kiss me some more.
Kiss my face.
Kiss my body.
Kiss my soul.
And I'll match your intensity.
Orgasms with you were different.
Probably because I was madly in love.
I'd like to think you were in love with me too.
I console myself thinking that at some point you probably did love me.
Not for my body but for who I was as a person.
I go on my own adventures now.
So do you.
Two straight lines meet at some point but only once.
They separate.
Never meet again.
We met in fall and separated in spring.
I wish we'd spent one monsoon together.
It is my favourite season.
