It's 8:45 pm and the game is starting. The sky is turning into my beloved cotton candy painting. And I am thinking about you. The cheers from the T.V. reach my ears as I look west. Past the trails of jets and clouds and deep into the sky. I am standing here looking, tapping the wooden rails of the fence on my deck and thinking. Worried actually. As peaceful as the colours and the cheers are they blend together into a white haze of senses. My mind is racing and this stop motion summer night cannot keep up. And I cannot type love letters for the life of me but I desperately want to try. I need to try at least once because the night is so peaceful and so perfect that it should be illegal to be alone.
I can't remember names or phone numbers at all. Yours fell by the wayside long ago.