us.

You held me and my hamster heart as slimmest of sun’s whispers slowly swayed through blinds onto your skin.

The grapy sunset in your eyes went well with wine in both our breaths, a bittersweet, most delicately helpless way to suffer.

Like the deaf man in a concert hall recalling all the rush he felt as tanks went by

I sigh and think of all the music that you made –

how stunning. How exceptionally not enough.