I find it funny how our memories differ,
I reacall cartoons –
while you remember Italy.
I always cherished what we had.
Not knowing what we had.
And today we have it all.
And past us.
And locked in inegrating memories.
A whole story before us.
A story ahead – that no one else has heard.
Posted on January 25, 2015, in Love. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
Leave a comment