Papercuts.

Buttercup memories of yellow lit nights
Growing upon each of us magically
The wasted pain in every syllable of laughter
Wondrously vanishes as we drive through

The chilly air kissing our bare tanned skin
Reminiscing an afternoon of floating feather light
Affording to lose a little precious time
We stand interlacing thoughts apart wide
Closely we hold on, counting each breath
Because we know that after all
We aren't peas of the same pod
Love isn't found in a hopeless place
We are but paper cuts on each other
Meagre but painful and impressive
Colour changing but short-lived
No matter how long we stay together
We are different, each have anew way to go....