You were a soft velvet deer and I came out a white wolf.
We dressed in each other's skin and the clothes felt warm but somehow strange...
I remember the next morning... the taste of your breasts remained sweet in my hands.
Your contracting thigh muscle is still the best part of my lips. I can feel its taste every time my tongue wanders outside in search of you.
I kept a few strands from your hair, close to my left ear. They whisper of late summer winds and of love that will never be.
In the distance the cranes have already started to migrate. The cherry trees have blossomed but there is no one here to rejoice in their red perfume.
It's winter again.