The smell on you brings me back to where I was, and sadly reminds me of where I am. I wish the roads would keep us wandering. I wish I could find the right words to say before your gaze became too intimidating. And I wish you knew that when we said goodbye, I did not want to. I remained where I was for a long time, praying that you would turn around and find me still there at the stairs. I will remember the dark eyes of yours and the contour of your face under the shades at night, as it becomes part of the melancholic collection of my memories of you.
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