Thinking back

[me_and_my_may]

Could you ever love my wrists as much as i do love your skin in our strange mornings?
You're like a thief, catched and recognised in a neighbour from a house across the street, you aren't sure how to react and where to touch to make it less hurting or confusing. Depends.
You are different, you are not with me anymore, over.
But your skin is the same.The only thing telling truth in you, the only thing speaking to me. The other one, your hands, you just don't let me see in these morns. Don't let them touch me.
Cause your truth about me is something you would never wish to share.