last kiss is as hauntingly wistful as a cursive diary entry tinged with despair, echoes of warm conversations, wilted red roses, postcards from lovers in bygone eras, and a bare tree.
it is torn-up polaroids of people dancing, an empty feeling inside on a long plane ride, a pale blue horizon, sipping on cold coffee alone while wearing a knitted, tear-soaked sweater, and the tragic, sudden ending of a romantic film.
it is a hazy lavender sky, photo albums left to collect dust, vintage novels replacing the space of a fading familiar embrace, the continual ache of nostalgic dreams, sad eyes, a lonely bed, the heady smell of rain, and misty summer air.
this beautiful ballad is a masterpiece.
