Those wisps of auburn blew toward me—and as I etched my heart into the wooden frame of another broken man, I closed my eyes and dreamt of red.

My nights with you have blurred into a distant haze;  pigmented blues that forever shadow the smile on my face. And to this day his silhouette haunts the backdrop of my reveries, though I  learned our storybook wedding had crumbled into dust long before that last day.

Perhaps my only road to salvation was to let her go, but I still picture you and me on that bird’s nest swing on Lake Como – forever falling into the sky.

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