I think of you everyday if only for a second in some form or another embedded like sticky infection inside the chest but it's getting easier the more time whispers across the wounds I wonder if it's the same for you if you look at a photo of me and your mouth pulls slightly to the left barely recalling walls stretched across blocking the sight of the idea of you and of me that you feel content happy. perfectly happy just as it is without until you hear a name or just some words dressed to sound as my names sounds rolling off someone else's tongue pushed away by some lips that aren't mine the room spins and the walls fall never really having a chance it's only then I realize we are delicate still floating through the air like fireflies only lighting up every now and then to reveal the beauty of it all.