My mind often finds itself drifting back to that Sunday afternoon in Camden. That chilly Febuary day you had me by the hand guiding me through the bustling market. 

It wasn’t the coffee that warmed my heart, it was the soft feel of your skin. It was the way your wavy hair danced slightly in the breeze. The twinkle of your eyes still stains my mind as each time you glanced back at me I fell further into your abyss. 

All I could think about was what it’d be like to taste you. To have you pulled in close so you could grace my clothes with your smell. To see the way your eyes light up after my lips detach from yours.

Life is made up of simple moments. Learning to act on them and appreciate them is something we all unfortunately forget to do. 


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