I close my eyes tightly and wish she's ok. Maybe the wind will tell her that I'm thinking of her and that I want her to be happy. Tell her too that I'm writing about her. Because of her, of course.
I look at you and I feel like running to you, running until we crash and I can get into your arms, into you , completely. I feel like clinging to you with arms and legs and all the strength I have. I crave nosediving in your neck, intertwining my fingers and your hair, and staying there. And if I get tired, I trust your hands will be there to catch me. All I want is to linger all over you.