I’ll go again. Alone. Cryin’. In that silent airport. Worryin’ nonstop about my souvenirs. An open wound in my heart. Given by the thorns of a red rose inside your mouth.
I’ll keep it safe and open. Moon-touched and night-awakened. And lickin’ my burned fingers, I’ll think about your fire-armed skin. And I’ll sing a lullaby for your wild eyes while my mind is takin’ out the glass daggers of your frowns out of its chest.
And my voice will come back to the living land, rememberin’ your Seraphic hug in that ascensional elevator.
And I’ll miss. And I’ll miss while I’m still there. And I’ll miss already and before.
Every atom of me will miss. You. You will be missed. Now. Tomorrow. Years before I met you.
You’re always missed, baby. You’re always loved.

PS. Don’t make me so romantic, buddy. I fuckin’ miss you deadly. Damned!

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