alexbrightsmith avatar

by

Some days, I forget the colour of her eyes. She’s fading. I never thought she would.
Some days, I only remember my first sight of her. That clinging dress beneath a tousled mane of hair. Mirrored shades. A speculative smile. There are worse things to remember than that bright summer day. Much worse.
Some nights, I remember our first kiss. My urgency, her hunger, my impetuous snatch at those concealing lenses.
Those nights I wake, screaming, and shudder till dawn.
But some days I forget, for an hour, that her eyes glowed with unholy fire.
Those are the good days.

1 comment add one below

  • avatar

    D.M. over 8 years ago

    Me, too. This smacks of a series.

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