maybe it was because we were both changed, both older. those years we didn’t speak made us a little bit bolder. was it the coloration of my cheeks that still was faint, or the way I curved every word I marked in paint.
was it your samson hair that drew me in, strength so alluring that my resistance was paper thin. I don’t think things will quite ever be like they once were, golden in my brain waves. no, they will be chromatic and effortlessly constant in my view sight.