And as I lay here, in the warmth of a night clouded by an old love, my mind begins to drift. I wander into a time when these memories were floating in thick air, as they hadn’t quite taken form yet. The music slows, and I lose myself once more.

He loves, I love. His hand holds mine as he falls asleep, and this is perhaps the most beautiful thing I have felt in a long time. I wrap my arms around him, trying so hard not to tremble as to hide my tears in the darkness. He rolls over and kisses my tears. For a few weak moments, I wonder if I could stay. But this city reminds of decay and boredom, the two realms that haunt me most.

I wish I was desensitized to the state of a broken heart. Yet its evolution is always beautiful, like the butterfly wings of an orange Monarch.

And that is all I can look towards from what is left of you and me.

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