The sunlight artfully arrayed
On your sleeping form
Mottled patterns of vanquished lust
Are not what I miss
My long gone and almost forgotten love
Your moist and welcoming lips
Those hypnotic bewitching hips
As we danced to our own song
As we burned ourselves to belong
Just don't hurt me any more
The memories are gray and fading
And I hardly remember you at all
But as I lie awake in the morning
When the ides of February come calling
For some reason
It's the smell of your hair
That I recall
I remember the way you lay
Nestled against my nose
But not the colour of your skin
Or your soft voice whispering
The practiced lies that befall
The fatal bliss
Of lovers in the morning air
Yes, I really wouldn't care at all
If I didn't miss
That smell of your hair
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