When I hear a certain song playing in the background, I think of you and a vision of your face, pervades my soul. When the second song plays, your sweet fragrance fills the air around me. The third song and her gentle hand caressing my face tingles my body covered with goosebumps. At the fourth song, I gently glide to the radio and turn it off. Thereβs no sense roaming in the darkened marred past. RJ Intindola β 2009
