What a mess we have made, love- standing on street corners and laughing at passerby. We stopped questioning life’s insanity, going with the flow instead of struggling against it. Yet we have not moved as we remained stagnant in the waters of our adoration. Tell me, darling- what do you fear? Is it losing me? Tell me, dear, because I am afraid that I do not know anymore. Who is the you that sleeps beneath my sheets smelling of burnt coffee beans and cheap espresso? Who is the me that sighs with the weight of empty toothpaste in saddlebags across cheap hip-bones? Who is the we that stands on such lonely corners, never touching or brushing?
Who have we become?
