On the pavement littered with cigarette butts and desolate corks. The street lights flicked on and off as I traversed the path that leads me back to you.

The soles of my shoes cratered the lane as I trod along the alleyway  that knows your name so well; on the bench nest disappointment and question, discussing what had happened; arguing what could have been. Around my legs hovers the hollow of my footfalls, trailing the breaths we have exhaled, the sweats we have perspired.

Perching on my hair were the shards of our glittering kisses. Faintly they flick, on and off, to the touch of the moon every time the light passed  through the bar, or whenever the bar passed through me. Its silver glow sleeps and snores.

Empty alcohol bottles standing beside the bin reminds me of the hours we have exhausted, your jeans and our dreams stretched between you and me. I can vividly remember the sound of our uneven gasps fluttering around like restless butterflies. Sometimes, it perched on the wall, on the curtain, on the window.

Sometimes, on your hair. Sometimes, on mine. And sometimes on my hand flat on the door while the other fumbles for the key as the entrance slowly widen and summer steals me away from the world outside.

I tossed my shoes, balled up on the couch, dissolved among the creases on the blanket, consumed your smell then closed my eyes.

This dawn , I shall be meeting you.