There are days when the past feels like a vivid dream. Even completely gone people still feel within arms reach. In a constant ageless cycle they circle around in your thoughts, until they return. I tend to face these things after the sun is hidden away. A bottle of wine accompanied by hours of staring blankly at the ceiling. Every movement slowly in reverse, every goodbye lost with the untangling of hands. I do my best to focus on the blue of the sky or steadiness of the breeze. Anything at all to try and forget the perfection of your face.