I found a winding, crimson strand of hair clinging to the black fabric of my t-shirt, where your head once rested.
I think of your smile—the way is resembles mine.
We've learned each other backwards and forwards; inside and out.
You and I have been whole, and we've been broken.
So willing and ready, picking up the pieces of each others shattered hearts.
Pulling threads to lace them back together again.
I rarely get the chance to say that I love you.
The words are heavy like lead on my tongue, weighing me down like the blood in my veins.
I am not one to promise forever, but I can offer right now, for as long as it takes for this moment to amplify into the next.
And I think it's safe to assume that our next moments will equate to lightning that strikes only once, but still burns a fire.