"Her heart sank into her shoes as she realized at last how much she wanted him. No matter what his past was, no matter what he had done. Which was not to say that she would ever let him know, but only that he moved her chemically more than anyone she had ever met, that all other men seemed pale beside him."
F. Scott Fitzgerald, A New Leaf
#f. scott fitzgerald
The Place Where You Belong
I can still run my fingers
Over the impression you’ve left
On the mattress and your unique scent,
The one that is yours and yours alone,
Clings to the sheets, to the pillows,
While individual hairs
From your lovely head are brushing
Against my skin in mocking imitation
Of your delicate touch.
How can I sleep in this museum
Of your beauty and your warmth?
When every sense throbs
With your flavor;
But you, my love,
Have left a gaping hole
In the place where you belong.