the grey sky rolled and rumbled on as the clouds crashed into each other, too fast and too eager, like my aching feet. the rain was relentless, the kind that soaks you right through, bearing my chest under my white t-shirt and my kindred spirit caught under skin and bone.

‘why are you looking so grave? it’s like you’re looking for something to say…’ you trail off in a flashback, blowing cigarette smoke through your open window which joins with the cold night air, the memory flickers and fuzzes, like a worn-out tape. the rest of it was left to my memory, something i’m not going to forsake.  

so i wrap my arms around myself, perfectly where yours should go. i blink the rain from my eyelashes and see ghostly offerings from the future, masked up in snow. maybe you were there too - who was i to know.