Seeing Her in Dreamland

The last touch was like a gift. The last touch was a gift indeed, a drop of passion from somewhere in the heart, a goodbye that left more than the first hello.

Where do the memories stay when the future has no place to go? Where does one go where they were the one to leave and walk away in the first place?

Someone who desire can walk the ground on the other side of the world, and through the powers of the future, you can still reside among each other's hearts.

I miss her kindness. 

No one would ever guess she was a prostitute.