You’ve Been Elvis’ed ©

It was as if the empty nights were made for thinking of her. And sometimes I found myself so vividly aware of her it was as if she had only just left the room and the ring of her voice was still there. And somehow, there was a disturbing comfort in that, and, despite myself, I’d envision her face.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s