I thought I felt your breath against mine
The whoosh of late night taxi drivers, caffeinated
Automatic doors snap at your heels.
Exile is a lonely place, thoughts are smashed into -pink floyd’s prism, and you said, you thought it was a prison.
Utopia, the sky is always blue, a feeling of –
glorious chiaroscuro, I was blurry and I was opaque.
– I wanted to send you- dearest- I’m sure- soaking- meantime.
Your cheshire cat smile, and the hill of summer gaze-
Let there be no need to remember
no need to forget.