If I was to write a poem for you it would be of the smell of jasmine coming from the back garden on that warm evening four summers ago.
It would be of silly games and losing my money on ice-cream - the one with real cream and pistachios from the shop with the old lady sitting outside eating tomatoes and salt.
It would be of days spent barefoot and in nigthies sitting on the swing in the balcony reading yet another book that changed your perspective while an old black and white film played loudly on tv.
It would be of nights dreaming of 'new' and 'better' things - the future- while getting drunk on cheap beer.
It would be of listening to your song on the radio as you sang off-key and I played with your hair.
It would be of that summer that still lives on with our absence in our hearts. It would be of you, perfectly flawed, like me...

**to reyhan** (I miss you)

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