Ferris Wheels and Stars

31

Molly,

The memory of you

is my pen, full of anxiety and grief spilling out in incoherent blackness

And our ferris wheel life

my paper, empty and full of unachieved possibility

Too short to remember

But not long enough to become a bore

On lonely nights

like these

I think of times

like those

When we were inseparable

And, just like those stars you loved to study

A sea of twinkling lights divides us

 

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