Day 58: Wings

How long will it take me
to forget the feeling of
my hands running through your hair?
Dark brown waves drifted
down your back like a curtain,
elegant curls framed your
face like a halo on an
angel,
but you did not have wings.
Even though your skin
was like a porcelain china doll,
your curves as grand as
the waves on the open sea,
I mustn't forget
you did not have wings.