quarta-feira, outubro 31, 2012

The art of writing about time


And for a second there everything smelled of you. I inhaled slowly and had to sit down because all of you was just too much for me. It reminded me of past nights and happy days by your side. It made me warm all throughout, in and out. And just as fast as it came it went, just like you in the end, constantly vanishing. It made me miss you all over again.
Ten minutes had passed, only ten minutes and it just seemed like a lifetime from where I was sitting. Out there, somewhere home you saw those ten minutes come and go and you would never guess that I was somewhere else, sitting down, inhaling you so close. I dream of drinking you through a straw and never finishing.
Long time has passed since we were both home and it made us both so old and cold. You sat down as I laid my tired body on the ground and started singing out our broken hearts. Long time has passed since I saw you last, 35 days to be exact. 840 hours, 50400 minutes that I have missed you.
Ten minutes more and I feel tired of watching the time pass by so slowly. I just wish I could have you now.       

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