Greener.

Do you remember the summer? The breeze that refreshed sweating fingers enough to be able to link them once again through theirs? I do. Do you perhaps remember the way that grass was never wet, so you didn't have to pat the ground to make sure that it wasn't too damp to sit down on. I do.

But most I remember curling up on a little patch of grass, with a bottle of wine and my ex girlfriend, smoking Lambert and Butler Cigarettes and singing along to Wiley. My summer was full of heartbreak, cannabis, and broken camera lenses.

Nostalgia is a little painful when you let it drill its way into the present second.

But I do not think much about Bethan anymore, I do not have the time when my head is so full of ideas and of thoughts of another, a newcomer, the next breeze to refresh my senses. Like cool water to a dry throat on a foreign summers day.

~

Join me, as the clouds smear this crisp blue sky, behind bare trees and empty thoughts, I'll scratch around in my pockets for my faulty lighter to yield at the end of your cigarette, burn the fragile paper as if it never once mattered.

Take off your hat and run slender fingers through your feathered hair, forbidden from being curious about your dark blue eyes it would seem.

I wonder why they shine so, but I dare not ask. You love another. So once this tab burns down to nothing, we'll walk our separate ways, and i'll only hope for the next time to come fast.