Memories.
I have memories I’d rather forget, but are too precious to let go. You know them. Last night I was in that haze between being awake and falling asleep and for some reason I remembered watching The Bourne Identity and staring across the matress at you. Nothing but your eyes, a bit of sadness like saltwater in the corners.
I can’t look at you the same, now. It goes back to those minutes. Your eyes are always half-sad. Sadness like dew at the corners.
No tag for this post.Posted March 21st, 2005 in main.




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