I know one thing. We are up against a vast and empty void of 6,000 miles of birdless sky, wind flattened fields, barren rock and bitter snow. The distance between us that can never be travelled is more than 20 years.
“I didn’t steal your heart just to go off somewhere and break it.”
“You didn’t steal it lover, I gave it to you.”
Still though, in my soul’s haunted darkest corner I see myself, as if I’m astral-travelling, watching without responsibility, from far above, as I stumble, juggling your love clumsily, until it finally falls and shatters, bleeding sticky on the filthy sidewalk, in front of the liquor store over near the stripper bar.
Her eyes shrink and harden into slits of doubt and dread, disappointment and inevitable recrimination.
“The past need not euthanize the present or vilify the future.”
“You know that I want this to work.”
“Because it does?”
“Because we do."
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