Your scent still lingers in the folds of night,
Soft as a whisper that won’t take flight.
It clings to the corners of my fading room,
Like flowers trying not to lose their bloom.
Your touch remains in the warmth I keep,
A trembling memory running deep.
I reach for you but the air turns thin—
A ghost of comfort brushing my skin.
Every breath brings you back again,
Every silence calls your name.
I try to let the moment slip,
But it holds me tight in its grip.
The scent that held, the touch that slipped—
You stay in the spaces my heartbeat skipped.
Even when your hands aren’t near,
Your presence hums inside my fear.
I’m caught in everything we missed—
The scent that held, the touch that slipped.
You carved your warmth on the coldest part,
A fading ember inside my heart.
I trace the air where your fingers were,
A soft illusion I still prefer.
The room bends slow when I remember you,
Colors shifting into deeper blue.
Your shadow moves like a quiet tide,
Pulling truth from where I hide.
Every breath brings you back again,
Every silence calls your name.
I try to let the moment slip,
But it holds me tight in its grip.
The scent that held, the touch that slipped—
You stay in the spaces my heartbeat skipped.
Even when your hands aren’t near,
Your presence hums inside my fear.
I’m caught in everything we missed—
The scent that held, the touch that slipped.
Maybe we were fire meant to fade,
A warm illusion sunlight made.
But even when the flames are gone,
Your warmth keeps dragging me along.
The scent of you in midnight air,
Reminds me love was truly there.
Though your touch slipped through my hands,
Your echo stays where my soul stands.
The scent that held, the touch that slipped—
Wrapped around the days I flipped.
No distance ever stopped the ache,
No silence made your name unmake.
You linger where my truth exists—
The scent that held, the touch that slipped.
I breathe you in with quiet grace,
A fading warmth I still embrace.
Even when the night has tipped,
I feel the scent… the touch… that slipped.
