i really miss the times i shared with you those twelve-hundred dollar days.
in the rain, we'd have soaked our clothes but there were always fresh ones to greet us at your mother's door.
you'd wear the warmth and i, the linen.
and we'd remain silent til the day grew dimmer.
the cold would caress me then, so i'd ask for your shirt.
you'd comply reluctantly; your skin's not so used to the wind.
til you realized you could hold me instead.
we seemed to fit like accidents.
the scent of your collar always bothered my conscience, but didn't affect my sight.
so i held tightly to the love i found over-night.
til it lost me to the rain again.
and i floated among the floods.
alone; content