what i don't want to remember

June 02, 2008 - 01:05

dear friend,

i think it was then that we were happiest.

ceramic plates on thick marble tables under the summer sun.
descending into the metro station, and falling into each other, that first night.
clean-old paving stones, roadside hawkers selling pirated goods and cheap jewellery and t-shirts.
looking for lunch on the island, on the top of the hill, with the aegean like a blanket below us. and there is nobody but us, under the vines, with the roses and the bees.

sleeping in your arms and resting my head on your shoulder.
your voice drawing me to life.

for those moments i am more than just myself and i am delirously happy. i have something to live for and someone to love.

you are driving me into the sheets, and i am clinging on to you like i would die without you.

and that was the truth, because now, without you, i am dead.

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