If I had a time machine

She is as lovely as she was when we were kids in love with the world and each other.

Age has given her face a texture that I want to feel with my hands. I want to touch her crow's feet. I want to trace the smile lines around those full lips. I want to untangle that mop of hers with my fingers.

I want to turn back the hands of time.

 

 

How wrong I was not to fight for her. Why didn't I see then what I do now?

The heart does not forget.

 

 

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