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Dazzling trees streaked in paint from pale moonlight. Wounds that shift gears to memorialize former delights. Taxing from the shudders of puddles, grazing footsteps, dashing remnant to wet sorrows.

Engaging signs of loss from posters dangling with bloodied hearts.

Where do we go, when tears are only enough for the day?

Seconds of you will be clutched for the journey of a lifetime.

When we were formerly gone.

Written by

Juggling Wordsmith. I have a lot to say! https://medium.com/membership https://www.patreon.com/Ezziegirl

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