i look around my room and see her hairs strewn about. near the piano, near my bag, near the bed.
my eyes lower. not because they want to but because that’s where my head is going. cup, cup, cup, can, can, can. fresh air is comforting and rare but it does come.
i don’t know how to make this work when i’m speaking my words and you’re speaking your’s. but i’m willing to take that step and make this move. i’m so more info
far from what i know but so are you. two people from so far who are so near and so alike must mean something, and i hope it means what i think it does.
i’m glad we moved past the stage of believing, but this is stage two and it’s twice as hard. i feel it already. the slow and cyclic movements of the dancers are entrancing but after the dance is over, is the show worth staying?
i guess we’ll see.