smiling memoirs

Everytime she would see him she would succumb to feelings she felt best left alone: obsession over his little imperfections, beauty spots if you will, replaying nights that seemed to delve into the abyss of timelessness and moments of stark perfection sitting under the spring suns. Forever she knew that one day a time would come for her to leave those feelings behind, but, oh just to squeeze every last moment out of it.

She would have to leave him though and as if like a birthday present taken away every time she had to leave his side, an ever constant thorn in her side, never letting her forget that he wouldn’t be around forever. Summer would come and she would visit, what she told herself, would be one last time.  Again she found herself lost in the magic of every day, she would rest her head on his chest posing flowers against the sun, studying the sillhoutte and intricate details of it while she felt his chest rise and fall. 

Again she left, this time telling herself, convincing herself, that the feeling was worth keeping and that the moments spent with him were never to be lost in the midsts of time.  Autumn came, while it rained outside there was a drought in her mind, a thirst she couldn’t fulfill with any reservoir of water. She was alone but for in her dreams. 

They had plans to visit one-another, in the backyard with the warm summer breeze blowing the smoke from their cigarettes into the starry night, eyes locked to each other anything seemed possible then. But winter had come and time had taken it’s toll, memories faded into the background of every day woes and joys. It’s hard to tell, but sometimes when I try really hard to remember… I can still see her lips smiling back at me.

11-aug-10

J