I don't want to miss you
or the memory of you
because missing hurts
I crave the promiscuity,
your smell,
your words,
your grin.
The warm pleasure
of a long debate
by the fire.
Words of faith
and love,
heavy breaths
slowed by the cold.
Red candles on a table,
memories to reminisce
watching Anne Of Green Gables.
You tell me : Asking questions is the most humble yet the most confident of ways.
You tell me : Love is the strong guiding light. Not the one we shut off when we need to sleep, but the one we switch on when we start asking questions.
So can you let me love you? Can you stay?