Sense less

Memories? Taste: Aubergine. Visual: Stripy top a la Breton. Sound: In those shoes!
Scent: the one I procure every birthday, I forget which, now. Touch…I want you to feel how I forgive you.
This almost happened once before. Almost is a life beat away from actually.
You always were on the dreamy side, my dream girl, but a dream is a world away from a coma – I know you will come out of dreams. This is a real nightmare. Touch and go, I know. Deep country, night star, middle of the road, zillion to one chance, nightmare in paradise.
If you go, I’ll bloody kill you; If you live I’ll forgive you. Make your mind up. I won’t forget either way.