… like early June, the time where our hearts first met. A thought of me wanders deep down like a cold void, broken by the past I tried forgetting. Like the breezes of the midday January, where our systems tried exchanging the same eye contacts that haunted me — until now. And a step closer to late March, you are also a step away from what could have been but never was.
A step I’ll probably just forget — and a step I’m never taking again.