Can we meet where we first met,
under the concrete fortress, between
sectors of madness and calm?
Do you want to meet me under the bridge? Under the stronghold, almost as strong as your hand was in mine, this bridge.
Do you remember?
We held hands and fought the cold, fought the hardening of hearts, threatening to encompass us.
Do you remember passing by the old chapels, the diners, the park?
Do you remember how we felt they would be there forever?
Young and mindless, innocent and beguiled, we wrapped ourselves into the mix of it.
Like children pouncing in piles of patchy leaves, we were enraptured.
I remember.
I remember the songs and the cool nights.
I remember the bike rides and kisses under new sights.
These spirits, these fading beings surviving in our memories.
Driving through this odd town, our town,
I can’t help but wonder.
Will we be left pondering on while wandering too?




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