near

I miss him in the way one misses a childhood  memory-- warm, yet escaping recollection, scattered details, over-exaggerating some, omitting others. cutting through the back of the house, hopping over the branch, avoiding the stream, and finding yourself on the beach--in Carriacou.

memories soar when dancing in the vibrance of the mind. nights turning into mornings, along long, empty roads. frivolous talk transforming into ideologies and world views. sleep stealing opportunities. the sun rising against our skin.

reflecting, it's clear it's not you I miss. It's the magic of the moments we shared.

Life is beautiful💚. Best few days I've spent.

Hot Gates

He sent me this song. To win me back, I suppose.