viernes, 7 de enero de 2011


Every morning when i wake up i forget for a fraction of second that you gone and i reach for you. All i ever find is the cold side of the bed. My eyes settle on the picture of us in Paris, on the bedside table, and i overjoyed that even though the time was brief i loved you and you loved me

With love


No hay comentarios:

Publicar un comentario