I can remember the exact position of the bare, winter tree branches as they appeared through the window, how they looked like empty arms, the grey, heavy sky. I would be lying on the cheap, black couch, looking over your head. I don't remember your face.
Such perfection. You are such a poet.
ReplyDeletedo you know the song, "Everything is Broken?" This made me think of that. So spare, so mournful. Lovely.
ReplyDeleteTara Crowley -- I hadn't listened to that Dylan song in ages and thank you for the reference! It does go nicely with my words.
ReplyDeleteso sad. and maybe a little bitter?
ReplyDelete