“Maybe desire is nothing but memory, And we dream only what has been.”

“We exist somewhere. in fragments, in madness, even under our old picture magnets. and maybe, maybe we are not the in-between-kiss giggles behind library books, or stumbling laughter, running away from the “wicked old crooks” we are not two pairs of pale legs in bon iver pullovers or red lipped, rosy-cheeked, graceful lovers we are not closed eyes floating to the rhythm of three in the morning, Or the vows we made to not be like those who left with no warning. We are not cold, tangled hands inside ripped hoodie pockets, or hot heavy breaths, with nothing on but our matching heart lockets. we are not, not anymore, but we exist somewhere in fragments, in madness, and our old picture magnets. and maybe, maybe in that somewhere, I’ll find you I’ll find you once more and call out for you call out for you love.”