That photo once forgotten now remembered. That pose, of my and your body, made my mind wander into the infinity of possible endings that would not happen neither in this life nor in the next. That photo has been juxtaposed with a feeling of despair and complete sadness of something, that I wish that should had happened. Perhaps this, that aches deep in the bottom of my core, is a true feeling... I sincerely wish it were a false hope... that one day would happen. And I've been there, deep in my core, watching this hope. This utterly destroys me from the inside out. Nevertheless I remain here. Doomed to walk this earth with everything but without a person by my side. Confined to die, and if by any chance I also resurrect, all alone. Knowing the truth of the world without the world knowing me. AND, all this, because of a deleted photo that not even I have seen, only lived. I hate and curse that day. the fabric of your dress. The smell of your skin. The scent of your hair. The slight contact of my fingers on your thighs ever wanting more... knowing that the flash must come. and the memory once again returns to my core and I regain peace until the next time I see you.