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“Your skin was poetry to me. The depth I felt, the way you felt metaphorically. You go deep, but we went deeper. I bend in thoughts of you. Eight years and I still die to think of you. We break in question, we mend in moments, and when we fall, we fall for eternity.” — Dominic Riccitello
Your skin was poetry to me. The depth I felt, the way you felt metaphorically. You go deep, but we went deeper. I bend in thoughts of you. Eight years and I still die to think of you. We break in question, we mend in moments, and when we fall, we fall for eternity.