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Fleeting glimpses of memory still fight to be recognised.

What once was barely tasted had such draw, such promise, my heart keens to have what my soul knows it needs.

So cold, those flames ignited through passions thought.

So cold your heartless rejection.

Ice still chills my veins and I long for that pledge unfulfilled.

What might have been.

How would you have looked?

Sun touched olive skin glimmering with sweat droplets, induced by my hand.

Gasps of need wretched from your lips.

Your dark eyes pleading for the prolongment of sweet release.

I still feel you in my bones…

When will it end, this mourning? You were just a spectre, an illusion, a displacement.

I look for you everywhere, in everyone and everything.

Will I be eternally searching for you?

Restless one.

©️Juliette Turrell