Leaves no residue in our minds and hearts anymore
When he reaches for my hand, I know
This gesture will never again be repeated
He doesn't promise to call, I don't expect him to
We don't even save the other's number
This is the age of moments that disintegrate
As soon as we move on to the next
I run my hand through his hair, kiss his lips
And he unbuttons my shirt
But the sighs we each let out, the quiet consent
Is only for this one encounter
Tomorrow, he will find someone else
And this memory will be crushed
Beneath the weight of my hangover
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