You don’t miss anything...

Why to miss? You asked utterly sure of your statement. Everyone is completely independent.

Why someone would miss another person? You just have to not remember the time together, that way of laughing or the perfume of her hair.

Why missing someone if there are a thousand of people who can exactly kiss the same way, who would feel with the same soul, who’s perfectly capable of being someone else copy.

Why you would like to miss something that is unique to a person. Why miss something in the eyes, the sunshine in her smile, or the long and peaceful silence you have after talking between yourselves with a look.

The world is full of uniqueness, it has plenty of eyes, smiles and silence...

And there’s the key, we miss people because the world is full of silence...

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It was just another time

It was a moan, it was her breathing. It was the end of innocence. It was not only the curiosity of the time, it was the hidden feeling behind. It was just a kiss, why not? It was just the fifth bottle of champagne. The good times need the best liquor. It was then just a try. Just her hand in her hand, it was just a witness surprised. It was just a moment to stop, it was just a time to look at the eyes. It was then the next song, it was a weird time. It was another kiss in the eyes. It was dancing together, it was falling behind. It was just another kiss, then another one. It was that electric feeling, knowing that something is going to end bad. It was just the delicacy of the moment, it was just a time. It was not passionate or wild, it was curiosity and discovery chance. It was touching here a...

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Free time

I don't know... But missing you should be a consequence of free time. It's not your eyes shining all over the place, definitely not the way you look at me. It's not your fantastic long hair or that malicious smile that hide those juicy and exotic lips. It's not all of that. It's not the way you say come on! Nor the argument you always have. It's neither you're unyielding nor the shy and tender girl that lives behind. It's not your bully or the frightening hugs you have; it's not the form of your nose. It's maybe I'm free now, and I suffer from Stockholm's. =) this is not that old

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