quiet

 

saturday night.

we drive, and i watch the sun set. she slowly sinks over the dark silhouettes,

quiet.

quiet.

what a thing. it can be peaceful, but it can roar in your ears with what is gone.

i think of you and what you would think of.

gone? you'd ask, and without a moment's thought, you'd have a million things to tell me.

you are gone, i think.

and that is why i do not hear you telling me the million things that are gone,

but rather just the one.

you.

that is what the quiet tells me.

but it also tells me it cannot stay, for even the quiet has to go.

something is coming.

always.

♥♥

p.s. winter is peeking at the door and she accidentally let some snow in.

p.p.s. i don't mind