These autumn nights are among my favourites, for her eyes light up these forests of black and blue. This is a snapshot in time when together, we were a perfect storm. She speaks, and I swallow every word whole.

Yet, the picture starts to fade. This weathered love, it leaves her standing in the distance, atop a cliff looking out into the middle of the Pacific. Hurt, anger, frustration – a triad that has long formed the base of our conversations. She reaches for me, and I hesitate, for my blood has boiled to poison. One scratch to the skin, and this mountain range will crumble to dust.

I sense that our days together are numbered, but I accede to my ego, and here you are once again.

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