you haven't spoken two words since the last time we met in our insincere clutch to our romantic allusion - I was never able to murmur or scream a goodbye, only a hurtling purpose to be dazed that you still write to keep my muse lingering in your night terrors, and oh don't forget the glass of wine on the stone cold counter, we have both come far in our own lives that development of something new is such an inebriating piece to hover over