I still, sometimes, think of her gleaming eyes. Washed in rose-water washed dreams, perceiving the world through iris of beauty, she was a spirit so free!
I still, sometimes, find a hint of that freedom in a few people I meet. I like to think that she somehow touched them and I gratify myself in their presence, her presence!
I still, sometimes, plug in to those songs and like to paint a picture of her in my head with she watching over me and bestowing me with fathoms of emotion to explore, write and sing!
I still, sometimes, hope for her to remain in me after long that I'd let go of her. Things change. People, circumstances, everything.. they change. Let 'us' remain..
I still, sometimes, find a hint of that freedom in a few people I meet. I like to think that she somehow touched them and I gratify myself in their presence, her presence!
I still, sometimes, plug in to those songs and like to paint a picture of her in my head with she watching over me and bestowing me with fathoms of emotion to explore, write and sing!
I still, sometimes, hope for her to remain in me after long that I'd let go of her. Things change. People, circumstances, everything.. they change. Let 'us' remain..
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