The Color Of Your Shirt

I couldn't determine if it was how your clothes were fitting that day, or if it was the way you did your hair.

All I could recall was neglecting every other person in the room, as I was solely fixated on your figure from the moment you came in to the moment you left.

I refused to look you in the eyes, because I knew that I would only want you more than I already did.

And although years have elapsed since that one particular moment, I can still recall the color of your shirt and the feeling in my chest.

And it is so miraculously unfair how much I still miss you.