The wind's blowing softly. Each breeze feels like a gentle caress against my skin. If I listen closely enough I can hear your voice calling softly, carried aloft on each light gust of air. Straining, I can make out your laughter. I smile as amusement tinged words, whispered for my ears only, reach me.
I leave the balcony and walk into the loft. Images of the past, superimposed over reality, greet me. Shimmering slightly, translucent tribal masks appear on the walls. Staring into your room, swirling mists solidify taking on the hazy forms of fetishes and talismans.
Feathery touch brushes against my arm, the phantom weight of your hand. Illusive heat dissipating even as I luxuriate in it's warmth. Unsubstantial breath exhaled, causing goose bumps to rise on my flesh.
Inhaling deeply, the elusive scent of herbal shampoo fills me. Ephemeral odors, your pure essence, dance teasingly around me. Fleetingly registering on my consciousness before fading once again.
Taste linking to scent, flooding my mouth with remembrances of the flavor of your lips. Terrifying moments by the fountain spent frantically filling your lungs with my breath.
Sense memories of you permanently imprinted on my soul.
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