Memories

It's the little things you miss:
The looks and touches you share.
The smells they leave behind,
Lingering after they leave.
The sound of their voice
Saying just what you need to hear.
As time passes it gets harder
To remember the individual moments
And the days blur together,
Leaving you with muddled memories
Of intimacy and seclusion
But without the sharp focus
That those times once had.
The perfect edges smudge,
The lines running into each other
Until the exact details are gone
And those memories,
Once so exact,
Are nothing but that:
Memories beyond your reach.

Reviews

[Drew]

Nice balance of melancholy and introspection. I guess we've all been there...

+1