“Refrain the love of those with fleeting feeling – rising but never soaring.”
I almost lose it when I hear the quizzical sound of your tone; shuttering the melancholic tune through the ember lights of the night. I am afraid I cannot find you.
“I don’t understand…”
You already know you do not have to. “It’s alright.”
Everything will be fine.
“What is the title of this book?” You ask.
Along with the tight embrace of my arms around your hips is my last silent prayer; if we die, we die tonight.
Nothing; I wish I can say, “Nothing.”
WORD COUNT: 100
Thank you for reading this story. If you want to talk about random things with me, do not hesitate to reach me through my “Contact” page. All the best love, my dear.