There were so many things I would have liked to tell you when we sat on those plush leather seats with our shoulders side by side and the heater humming beside our feet. When we walked along those narrow, narrow streets, the bottoms of our shoes making muddy imprints on the pavement - we were here once! before the rain washed them away. When we watched the countryside through our camera lenses and car windows. When the night was ending and the noise subsided and your hand fit so perfectly with mine. I didn't breathe a single a word though, and somehow it was enough.
Saturday, 28 May 2011
conversations
There were so many things I would have liked to tell you when we sat on those plush leather seats with our shoulders side by side and the heater humming beside our feet. When we walked along those narrow, narrow streets, the bottoms of our shoes making muddy imprints on the pavement - we were here once! before the rain washed them away. When we watched the countryside through our camera lenses and car windows. When the night was ending and the noise subsided and your hand fit so perfectly with mine. I didn't breathe a single a word though, and somehow it was enough.
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There were so many things I should have said to you on that lonely road late at night, the wind gusting so hard it made the bags in your hands shriek in that whiplike fashion. And as I went to help you with them, you wrapped your arm around me - 'it's so cold!' I grabbed on just as tight, scared you would regain your senses. You giggled at our plight and I chuckled nervously as well - why was this so easy for you but unnatural for me? I didn't breathe a single word though, and it will never have been enough.
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