Next time.
Next Moment.
Next....
Neverminding of ancient words.
Had a love.
Lost a love.
But was it real though?
The long way to the point.
But still not Adequate.
Still have air in my infinite lungs.
But I still wouldn't have it any other way.
Do we feel this way, just to stay the same?
Do we look back to collections of love, in awe, or is it still the same?
Do we make our name?
A-wondering if I could pull back to those moments.

Garrett Johnson.