Sylvia Macque
2 min read
Love Is A Memory.

... Going down memory lane
Trying to see the beauty of us
All my affections are tossed...

He was the archetypal preference to my storybook expectation of a perfect man.
I began to believe the parable that says 'where your heart is, there your treasure lies'.
He had the golden chocolate skin I craved for
His flustering brown eyes always threw me off the line,
His perfectly shaped and sized nose and ears made me acknowledge the Potter.
His cupid bow lips were sultry
His beards and well styled hair made him outstanding.
I wouldn't make you visualize his stature so that you wouldn't get all tripping.
His glistering teeth made his smile look even more perfect, it was magnetic. I must admit that I've never seen a more charming smile than his.
His voice was like a spark of lightening that announces the rain
With his touch, I got on cloud nine, it was a high electrifying voltage
His words were sweeter than a mixture of sugar and honey
Moments with him were priceless
His smell got my adrenaline flow twice as fast as normal
His soul was undeniably, irresistibly beautiful.

He said I'll know no hurt, no lack, no pain
He said he'll always be there for me
He said he'll cover up for me and perfect my flaws (he felt like a god)
He said he had never found my kind of succulent and wouldn't trade it for the world.

Did I hear you say 'but'?
Yes, but now, where's all the love you professed,
All the futuristic plans we had?
I'm entangled between impoverished emotions,
I'm drained and pained,
Longing for love, true love
But no, not today, never again will I give in,
You were absolutely mephistophelean.
You found a new kind of succulent!
Very well, the world awaits your own side of the story.

Going down memory lane,
Trying to see the beauty of us,
It's another February! πŸ˜‰ πŸ˜‰ πŸ˜‰

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