Wednesday, June 20, 2007

Another lifetime passes us by and in more ways than one.

You know I mean last year, you know I mean this feels too strange – this new place new folk and you not here. I am a sentimental sop. I know. But in another day another way I could sort of pretend I woke up this morning in your arms. I could pretend we never did end. That the walls are painted blue and the blanket is kept warm.