Too late? (imagine)

I'm writing this
while her fingers kiss mine,
and her head rests on my knee.
And I think of what
you would think,
while her lips greet mine,
and she thinks of me.
Chorus:
So this, so this, so this,
so this is the emotion
of confusion.
It feels like my mind
is whispering a scream,
and I am undone,
and I am undone.
She is talking,
but I am remembering
how simply you said
I still love you.
As her skin scrapes on mine,
I am wondering,
do I still love you too?
Chorus
Bridge:
Maybe it's too late,
maybe it's too late.
Maybe I'm falling in love with her,
maybe I don't know
anything
anymore.
Did you keep
the love painting?
I still have the paper rose,
and your poetry,
and the memories.
Do you still have
the secret love notes?
Chorus
Maybe it's too late,
maybe it's too late.


First of all: Beautiful. I
First of all: Beautiful. I love your voice, I love your poetry. You have an amazing way of making me feel like I'm in it.
Second of all: There's a lot of emotion in here. Talk to me. I'm here.
Thanks. I think I'll call
Thanks.
I think I'll call you.