We could’ve been king and queen, but the storm caught me first.
Me, wrapped around your gentle touch
and cuddled with your blissfully sweet bouquet.
Us, feeding each other with kisses.
You swept me off my feet.
I was falling — almost blindly, hoping you’d catch me.
But you didn’t.
You weren’t there, were you?
Where did you go?
Was I solely imagining it all?
Plausibly.
If we never happened, if “us” were simply a passing cloud,
then why am I still caught up in your storm?
Why is the last thing I see every night before I close my eyes is you?
Why do I miss you like this?
