Promise

I am still hanging  from the warmth of your arms, the taste of your kiss. Wandering the streets, drenched in the rain, looking for your warm smile, following the scent of your skin. But I am only soaked in terrible disappointment, sodden with dispair. And I blame myself, for my wrong ways, for my urgency, for letting my mind and my heart drown in the tides of desire. I wished you for my summer when you were only meant to foreshadow my spring. I expected a promise that your lips could not fulfill.