Midnight hand
remembering at 8:00 p.m. on 2003-12-15
The water had bled the ink across the page. Small scrawlings of words, simple ghosts of the paper now, as the blue markings creeping away into the spoiled bath.
I watched your words disappear from my fingers. Those professions of love return back into the evaporation, longing for their meaning to dissipate along with the ink.
The beads of moisture, trailing down my drowned skin, but it didn't matter anymore. Those small clear ringlets broken away, as small as the detached thoughts of you.
There was a time when I would have held on tighter. When I would have returned from the dark times.
Instead, I watched my solution to you, wash away.
never was � never will be
