Perfection, loosing track of time.
When staring up @ perfection I often loose track of time. I found it worked in my favor for it made one moment feel like an hour.
The scar under your chin is perfection.
Your thumb, silently stroking my flesh, my forehead, between my eyes. That short fragment of time loops infinitely within my mind.
Whenever I think of you I loose track of time.
Even more so when I remember when you were mine.
