Do you remember the taste?
I must confess, I have become selfish in my own delusional way as I run the memory through my mind on repeat all day.
It must be exhausting, trying so effortlessly to keep me out of the corners of your careless mind.
I know you remember – for it is all I can forget.
Lips curled between one other, taking in the musky space between the city sky.
The taste plays me like a fool as it trails the evening air around us and chases me like the imaginary friends I used to dance with.
The taste, so violently burned into my lips, haunts me while I brush against your skin.
For how eager I have become – trying madly to forget the taste of you I created with the demons in my head.
I no longer remember how my lips felt before you held up the lighter, but the daylight was lucky enough to never light the match you held so high.
The flame did not burn you as it did I, but the taste lingers around your lips like the last summer in July.
Does this daydream of mine haunt you like the rain in the London sky? It haunts me like it does every July.
