“You arrive later than the monsoons, but your memories stay on like the darkest summer tan. You leave like the harshest winter, making me cave in, for some warmth.”
The day wraps the sea, shore, vast landscapes, blue skies and everything that gets attracted to her magnetic eye, in romanticized summer air that she breathes.
But how could she ever fall in love with the night? Her solitude stuck to her skin like winter. Just like her clock stopped at 11:11 every night. Wrapped in fabric she waited for the day to pour fire across her skin. The night worked over time to keep her at that distance to see stars swimming in a dark ocean. Yet she clawed at the air like it was smoke during the night hoping someone would see her ocean eyes.
On some days it feels like we’re running out of new memories.
On other days it feels like we could start an endless journey towards our old memories.
It always feels like a void.
And just when we decide to crawl back alone into that fragile shell,
We stock each other’s loneliness,
By offering to share our dark and gloomy shells which suddenly transform into everything as bright and warm as the summer sky.
You’re her darkest summer tan ,
You’re the vacant seat beside her in the holiday van .
On a sunny day , you’re the nostalgia in the breeze ,
you’re the crease ,
the iron can’t straighten .
you’re the weight in an empty mind ,
You’re the repeat in the rewind.
the white in the colour she wears,
The name on the page she tears ,
The presence in every absence ,
The stain that was always meant to rinse .
You’re the whole in those broken parts ,
You’re the mirror Image to those floating hearts .