(no subject)
I fall down the well, drowning. In those moments, gasping for air, I remember the lazy afternoons I had with you. The desert heat coming in through the screens, your dusty curtains billowing in time to your jig. Trying to make me laugh until I couldn't breathe. Anything to get my mind off the bruises on my ribs and the back of my skull. Whiskey in solo cups. Your smile was always infectious. I miss the way you looked at me in earnest when I would speak on philosophy or writing. The way the green would swirl like ocean eddying when you were waiting to interject. We never ran out of things to say, stories to tell, history and imagined.
I no longer know your history, nor you mine. I dream of you. You catch me up on what you've seen, who and what you've fallen in love with. When I wake I can never remember the details, only that you are happy and that I wish I was too.
I no longer know your history, nor you mine. I dream of you. You catch me up on what you've seen, who and what you've fallen in love with. When I wake I can never remember the details, only that you are happy and that I wish I was too.