The coming years will stir my thoughts of now and then into a slurry. A tempest of fire in hues of lavender and rose, dusted by starlight and things left unsaid.

And that’s where I’ll find her. Dancing amongst the constellations of my dreams. Enveloped in smoke and ether. Distant and raw, drenched in the tears of the sun.

I’ll try to remember. I’ll claw and pound at the door to that memory. Screaming silently into an apathetic void. Until I fall breathless and the rains set in for the night.

This memory, this dream. This thing that never happened. Though my heart unable to accept what never was, will never know what could have been.