Revolt in paradise

Thursday, April 27, 2017

036. Common ground

Suppose that there are too many things in my head, it decided only to remember certain fragments of certain things; the hem your grey t-shirt, the curve of your smile, a view of our backs sitting next to each other, a bouquet of words from a poem I can't quite recall.

"I sat next to you; you are far away."

As you always have, and probably (always) will be.