The moment I saw you some clichés struck my mind
the ambiguity of your scent, sent me somewhere, somewhere I have never been.
you became that one unoriginal love song in my head.
your hand brushing my arm is all I could care for.
I hate that ‘you are not that important’ stare you had there outside that door for me.
your unexpected coldness, without a sign, still keeps me tirelessly warm at night.
I guess I'll be just one of those Instagram pics in your archives.