Smell
Every single smell
inevitably reminds me
of you intangible chest;
every single moan
it is an echo
buzzing in the cold;
every single touch,
without a doubt triggers
that thought of the non materialised.
The eternal contradiction
of your (non) existing
it utterly drives me insane;
it is fever running through my veins,
it is beneath me eroding,
yet like lava violently erupting.
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