My whole house lack of you, your voice
echo through my halls as if your
spirit still lingered here.
Each night I walk these
corridors alone, wishing that you
somehow would hear my cry
and return to my arms.
I open the bedroom window and
allow the scents of pine to
find its way in.
This evening ritual rocks my
weary head
to sleep.
tisdag 11 november 2008
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