… i remember,
once your presence mattered.

how are you?

you were there on that foggy sunday
existence may differ, yet the jolt still blew me away

from gestures to smiles
from glances to laughs
from whisks to mirks

how are you?

i haven’t gotten a chance to tell the truth
of how often i forget you

not because it wasn’t pure
it’s just because i can’t have you.

cheesy as it might be
i can’t seem to stop whispering in a glee,

how are you?

how are you?