how sometimes you let green lights slip.
how the glasses of wine slip away from my hand
as quickly as i fall asleep.
then i can't remember a thing;
well i always remember
but never the important parts
the hurdles we build on our own path
and then the need for growing old.
it was the never ending need for connection that broke our hearts.
we have not seen each other in months.
in years, maybe.
or have i ever?
you'll never be here.
or there.
where are you, anyway?