You Fade
By Castaway
How whispery white your skin has become, how lack lustre your eyes which gleamed before like jewelry. My dreams take me to you when you were younger and I was a child. I remember the scent of you, the heat of your skin in summer, the way you used to sing, the smell of gravy in the kitchen. Your dark hair and freckly skin were always a source of surprise to me, and the way you laughed, carrying me away with you as if I were a little boat on a river. Behind those darkening eyes of yours are the memories surfacing, taking you back and away from me until in the end there will only be memories; mine of you. Written February 27th, 2002 © on Feb 27 2002 04:23 AM PST 0 • 1
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"How whispery white your skin has become,..."