I heard our song on the radio tonight. Or rather it was the song that never became ours. The one we would've sang into the wind with the windows down and the volume up. We used to hold hands to keep me from falling apart by myself. Remember the night we walked down the train tracks and got caught by the security guard as we lay on the tracks? I used to reach for your hand so I wouldn't have to feel the wind pass me by. Now you're thousands of miles away and the only thing between my fingers is the moisture from the thick gulf stream air.
I still hear your voice at the far end of the dimly lit tunnels. I still reach for your hand while I'm driving and my heart stops. Why couldn't I tell you when you were in my arms? Why couldn't I hold you when our arms were tangled vines? Now we're friends and nothing more though my heart's arms are sore from trying so desperately to reach beyond the shore. You've wandered off to recollect your native tongue, but we used to speak in Romance languages.
As you walked away I could never say anything that would keep you close. You saw an image of me that I thought I was. You saw what I thought I wanted to be. I'm still becoming myself, aren't we all? You saw the ripples of a man still dripping holy water. You saw a preteen in a young man's body. So maybe now I'm just going through different motions. Yes, perhaps now these are just my teenage lusts that I'm grasping after like vaporous dreams. It could be that these memories are just that, memories and not a preliminary chapters to my love story. Maybe. Maybe I'm just wasting both of our time.