They say when we go, that we are gone for good.
When you left, I could still feel the warmth of your hand as it lingered a little to long across my back as you held me in the morning hours. Your essence, it lingered in the pots and pans that you left, strewn across my kitchen table as if you were just there — as if you had just gotten up out of nowhere and would be back at any moment...
Did I know when you got up that morning to go where you always go that you would never come back? Either way, I’ll be here waiting until the day that you do, lingering in the scent of what you left behind.
Concept & Visuals © Dahui Wang