The time We shared. We met. We didn’t fuck. Lost and Bold. Quiet and Astringent.
That I would be moored by Your eloquence. Those nasty beautiful words You spread open upon. Paper as You slide off of the edge.
Wrought. Symmetry. Sematic.
As though time is capable cognizant culpable.
We.
A dream forsaken does not mean that it never existed.
Beside the Between 