She slowly curved our insides to a mass of empty breaths, and when finally we would exhale and exhale, fight and desperately seek meaning in our wispy, airy contractions, nothing would come of them. A different way of saying: she had a death in me. Her hair, of red pine and willow leaves in autumn would sit lightly on her pale skin – and oh, small shivers would stand still against my spine –
Her knees were colourless; lines threw their bones into an awkward shape of round, what would normally fit wholly unusual, between her slender branches of legs and arms. Eyes, what could anything be said of them save for t
I hope you can read this where you are. Youre sorely missed by so many people including myself. The nights I spent talking to you until the sun came up will never be forgotten. Thank you for all the spirited talks getting me through the darkest days.
I will always treasure those memories. Love you bro! D.-