Perhaps a better me would have done the right thing and left, or a worse me wouldn’t have worried about it, just indulged in the transgression, but I am only as good as I am, and I could only do what the person as good as I am could do.

and you found new corners of yourself to sink into.

I could live to be a hundred and it would still be the loveliest thing I’d ever seen.

I memorized the folds of your body, the contours of your face, the patterns of your breath.

broken and blue.

but here in stupid silence we sat.

with her big hazelnut-chocolate eyes

this person who didn’t know how rare it was to be loved by a person so tender.

bittersweet memory,