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| V8 |
3/12/2012
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Two tiny wandering souls linger while time stands still.
Open air outside comforts soft breeze.
Arms circle, hearts intertwine, tears fall in continuance, in systematic proportions.
Nothing can be forever, though we both know it.
Nothing can be real, though we both know it.
Unfortunate as it is, though perfect as it is fleeting.
Nothing can feel so right.
Hearts cry along with our tears.
The breeze, it seems, changes direction.
When the sun comes up only its rays extend cautionary glances.
Her eyes close, disappearing thoughts melt away into other places.
Now alone, though hearts still beating.
Skin crawls, and yes, still fleeting.
Scraping away memories that lash with a whip, a crack of smile on my face.
I remember the good times and yet I yearn for more.
But the breeze has turned into wind and washed everything away.
Maturity lies still, maturing.
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