Sometimes I wonder if you ever reread our memories the way I do—like dog-eared pages in a book I can’t return to the shelf.
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Stringing together words without knowing who to speak to, I could only write, write, and write in my book, with silence accompanying me. 🦢
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Sometimes I wonder if you ever reread our memories the way I do—like dog-eared pages in a book I can’t return to the shelf. right away.
Sometimes I wonder if you ever reread our memories the way I do—like dog-eared pages in a book I can’t return to the shelf. right away.