inhale what’s left of her scent

December 30, 2018

After she’s gone I cherish all of the signs she was here. I press my face to the pillow and inhale what’s left of her scent. I wear the necklace she gave me, I hold the pendant in my palm while I think of her. My pubic bone aches from grinding against her. I press my fingertips into the small purple bruises on my thighs, she leaves them with her teeth. I run my fingers through my long mess of hair searching for the section she cut, late at night while I sat at her feet and we planned an epic art piece using both of our hair. I love that there’s a short little patch in my mane now, hidden underneath, a sign she has been here with me. I collect these signs like seashells so I can press them to my ear and hear the ocean.

Herdirtylittleheart

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