I loved her as certain delicate watches are to be loved, with pride, in adoration. In between cogs turning and pendulum swinging I’d gaze at her face, the second hand ticking, telling my future. And as small spiders would find their way back to the centre of their intricate uniquely woven webs, I would find my way into her arms to sleep, to curl up in our impenetrable terrene, just until the sun rose. Then we would turn the squeaky brass knob and venture out of the tiny door into the wilderness and patiently wait for the night again.
The realisation that all of that was real
Absolutely heart broken Over and out for a while
Straight. to. PIE