The soft, fair white skin that my thumb grazes upon
I can still feel it on my skin.
The pattern that my thumb took grazing your cheek
I still remember it.
Your pupil dilated every time you looked at me.
Your eye color slightly changed
From a soft dark to dim light.
My hand was too small
When it laid in yours.
Our faces would gravitate closer
Until your nose laid on mine.
I can still feel the warm breath that came out your pursed lips
And was soaked into my pores.
It lives there forever.
I can still recall your rapid heartbeat
Because it laid against mine.
A symphony.
That’s how I remember us
In the moments
that we didn’t know were your last.
About the Creator
Yasmine Rivera
I am 16 years old with a passion for writing poetry and books. My material is incredibly melancholy, so do not forget the tissues.
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