Forevermore
Description
"Are you thinking about her again?" Her voice loomed through the speakers of the phone. He responded with just a hum, his calloused fingertips idly tracing the strings of the guitar he had rested on his torso. "Why?" She asked, once again.
"Her small fingers could have been playing mellifluous tunes on this guitar." He smiled; said barely above whisper.
Foreword
This was written with my dearest daddy in mind,
We could have been;
we really could have been.
-Snow.
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