Forever drawn to that wrinkle in time – picture-perfect memories that were a mess in the making. And I still love, thought it is wistful form of love that draws from a well nearly bled dry these past six months. I feel the liveliness that struck me at fifteen has faded into the backdrop of my youth – a dissipation that chills me on those lonely nights out in the city.
Time bends when we are both on the line, and for one precious hour you are mine and I am yours. But those winter days have left you with a new girl, and these estival nights highlight a fragile landscape that cannot endure both of our desires.