Darling, I don’t know you much.

Well…I guess I don’t want to.

Sometimes, too much knowing kills.

So, I chose to let it still.

 

All I know is the smell of you.

The scent of damp spring grass in a foggy morning,

of the cologne you put the first night we met,

of touches and kisses when lights turn low,

and of your warm chest where my cheek perfectly fits in.

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