did you remember to forget the day we met?
2004-02-29 & 2:27 a.m.

the sadness washes itself away, eventually, with reds and purples and hinges of blue. there are mornings you forget where you are, what with the streaming sunlight, and for all you know, italy is outside. there is the countryside, the olive trees, and the stone walkway. even here, you recover, even if only for its essentiality. candlelight makes way for reading a little longer, secrets are kept in tin boxes, and long walks outside allows for the optimism only spring can hold.

there is ease with the pretense of familiarity, a soothing dullness that transcends all the lies. you become more preoccupied and tell me i have gone more insane. i am trying to keep a steady nothingness in my eyes and attempt the transition from lovers to friends.

soon this will all the background, the stuff introductions are made out of. my prelude to a world of markets and stuffed olives and places the maps have forgotten about.