elsiewarrenswords

Him

The slow and delicate touch of his lips,
Strokes over my fingertips.
His eyes are set on nothing but my own,
When he\'s away, I feel so alone.
His voice brushes past,
But this, I know wont last.
The ringtone of his text,
He\'s probably waiting for his next.
All the words he has ever claimed,
Are just lies.