spaces in between
intimate memories; lost in the archives
i wish i could remember, us; in vivid details. i see you like the colors i’d painted on a drunken saturday night. you’re red, you’re gray; your black veins piercing through my amber veil. still, it’s washed when i dream of us. you stayed coursing through every pint of blood i’d given. i missed you but i miss us.



I love the way this piece unfolds. It has mystery, but also honesty, like it’s slowly revealing something sacred.