each morning from a painted scene to a dark bluff.
you’ll try your whole life to understand how a single person can affect you as much.
how it can seem as if you came here just to wait. years. knowing something then that you would later feel, at first illusive, later definitive. that it was your forever. the bridge was of time.
sometimes you just wait—your mind, your body and the silence. the backs of your eyes aching, but calmed with what will later be known as meant to be.
© r.e.l. 6/18/13