slow. close your eyes, darling, i miss the candles and your lovely scent. it's such a terrible thing that those other scents are so alluring. captivating my curiousity, such a shame, shame shame. i'm wrapped in this off-white sheet, thinking of those days and nights. those times in between. reading old letters and notes, oh, such a sad, sad shame. is it just poetics? just words in the sand, everlasting only in memories or perhaps photographs? i want you to feel this right now. i want you to feel it. because, really, everything fades in the middle.
paint splatters on metal mean so little to you, i'm sure, but do you really know? have you even really tried? assumptions never lead to the true answer. inhale. exhale. your fingers on my back. look at me. remember me. remember me. imagine my voice reading this to you. i'll let you feel my pain just as i have felt yours.
but, oh, the timing.
what a shame.
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