How would you know? When everything around you’s changing like the weather of a big black storm. And who would you turn to? Had I a ghost, a shadow at the most. But I wouldn’t trouble your mind with a childish design of how it all should go. But I love you so. When it all comes clear, when the wind settles, I’ll be here you know.
You said the hours were ours. Darling, I’ll grow weary, happy still, with just the memory of your face.
Gracious goes the ghost of you. And I will never forget the plans and the silhouettes you drew here.
You look so warm, so dynamic. I was done at university and suddenly felt the world come alive around me. The trees came into color and nature seemed to beat like drums or a heart. See me run. I was wayward singing in a place I had closed my eyes to, but had always been. I ran through it all like I had never been there before. My surroundings were numb to me until I was granted my freedom.
Now it’s time. Time to be alive at all hours of the night. Time to play under the moon and picnic under the stars. Time to make photographs on rooftops and watch films outdoors. Time to read books I’ve never read, go to cities I’ve never been and fall in love with people I’ve never met.
Spring is alive in her apartment. She came here to live, to breath and to love. The window brings in the light. She’s watched the seasons change as they came through her city view every morning. In the midst of the grand winter, she could hardly fathom getting out of bed, but it’s getting less scary. Spring is less intimidating, it’s welcoming and warm like a temperature she had never known. She doesn’t turn her face back into the deep white of her sheets anymore, there’s a warmth outside that’s stronger than her bed.
Youth finds itself again with the emergence of spring. As the season is reborn, so is the soul. Yearning for the coast, Venice mornings and sleeping on the beach. Perhaps faith will be restored in Brooklyn, the vintage-esqe 90’s youth that emerges in all it’s residents as the sun comes out. Temperatures rise, shirts crop and parks open. Swimming in the sun, aren’t you the girl that I met last June?