Friday, December 2, 2016

Brown eyes

I miss the days. Those brown-eyed days of ours. The so called miracle of love.
The days I held your body in my arms and thought the world would never come to an end. Time just stood still when our brown eyes shared the hours and sunsets. Like the young like to do. Yeah... I miss our brown-eyed days, baby.

Now I can't place you anywhere but my memories. Haven't heard from you in so long that I don't even dare to count.
Your voice is but a precious recolection of a time that comes no more.
The smell of you next to me in the morning. To make love as a celebration on waking up. Your breath on my chest, slowly returning back to calm. And quietness. Just the quietness of you. How I miss our brown-eyed days, my darling...

How did I let go again? Can you tell me again, baby? How did I let this crumble for good, do you remember? What was it this time? 'Cause I can't seem to catch a glimpse of you leaving. I shut that image down within this old heart of mine. I don't want to relive that minute anymore. Not me nor my soul are ready to go through those words again.
You are my memory, baby. And like all memories, this is one that feels heavy on the soul, baby. Like our brown-eyed days. Those days I miss.

The city sleeps quietly. As I suppose you do, too. I can't find no quiet or peace. Not like this. Not now. And not anymore, baby. Life tastes like nothing without those days.

Our brown-eyed days. Yeah... how I miss our brown-eyed days, baby...

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