Endless hours spent staring out of dirty windows, wishing for the season to end and the next to begin; eternal optimist looking ever to the future, or maybe you are just unhappy where you are. Never in one place for long but still somehow stuck in the same rut dug out by your fingernails. Summers spent praying for the feeling of cold air shivering down your spine; winters passed wishing for warm sunlight encircling your shoulders.
Restless ever still, dizzy from tracing circles around your indecision. Lightning cracks the sky, autumn hangs it’s head; uncertainty of seasons. Damp air clings to your hair, traces your collar bones, weaves itself between your fingers.
Endless summer, enduring winter, liminal spaces left in between; make your home within them. A golden hour that never succumbs to nightfall, never brightens into daybreak.
Shadows cast across old photographs, let the sun set on memory, street lamps not ready to flicker to life, life stands still in silhouette. Memories fold into themselves, blur together, melt into shades of blue and goldenrod, dizzy with orange blossoms and honeysuckle; recollection too blissful to trust in; was it ever this beautiful? Shadowbox of the past held in unsteady hands, wishing to relive days that never shone as brightly as they seemed to. Back turned on eastern skies, amble toward the moments between shadow and gold; make them last, even if only for a few minutes longer.