Tangled together like rope, Your head resting on my arm and my fingers in your hair Lying on the cold wooden deck. I can still close my eyes and see you there. The circles you rubbed on my wrist, I can still feel your touch lingering on my skin. And if I weren’t so damn proud I think I could almost just give in. No one could ever compare to you There’s no chance that I could ever love another. Five years past and still trying to let go. Farewell, my almost lover.