I still wear it, you know.
That shirt you left me
that day when I stood in the shadow of the English building
and watched you walk away.
I didn't wash it for days- it smelt like Irish Spring and you
musky and male.
I wore it when I got lonely
when I missed your smile and your eyes.
Then even when things came apart
I still wore it.
When I cried myself to sleep that night it kept me warm
Then finally I washed it.
One day I began to miss you, so I put it back on
and even though it's been a year
and been washed so many times
It still smells like you.
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Comments
i've had this feeling before.
--
And me I’ve made my choice as well and in no way was it easy
But I’d rather have a man for love
Then to be a rich man’s lady
---
[link]
--
And me I’ve made my choice as well and in no way was it easy
But I’d rather have a man for love
Then to be a rich man’s lady
---
[link]
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