In Every Sense

Standing admist the meadow of blossom,
I crave for the fragrance lingering within your linen.
While cherishing the view of exquisite landscape,
My eyes yearn for the scenery where you once stayed.
When I listen to the hymn of forest,
My ears long for a single whisper of your breath.
While touching the softest silk,
I ache to endure the caress of your epidermis.
Savoring the gourmet delight,
Reminds me of the taste of glass you left behind.