An exercise on run ons
Fim do verão / Summer’s end
A warm evening breeze, a little drink--nothing too intoxicating--and your stories collected along the way. I remember how summer nights were spent like this. I remember a time when our fire was ablaze. I remember the feeling of completeness, of affection, of shared experiences. Then life happens like it always does, we grow up, we move on, and after the years, after our countless summer evenings, we realize: we may have become complete on our own now, but that our completeness, brought together, however infrequently tangential, because infrequently tangential, enriches our lives beyond measure. And that no matter the distance--through space, through time, through consciousness--we're still connected, we still yearn for each other's company, we'll still make plans for another evening like this: That one late summer twilight, as the warm breezes gently nudge us, we'll have a glass of blush in hand, we'll bring with us our stories collected along the way. An exercise on run ons. We'll look to the future, we'll look to our twilights, knowing that life will still be beautiful, no matter the distance.
A warm evening breeze, a little drink--nothing too intoxicating--and your stories collected along the way. I remember how summer nights were spent like this. I remember a time when our fire was ablaze. I remember the feeling of completeness, of affection, of shared experiences. Then life happens like it always does, we grow up, we move on, and after the years, after our countless summer evenings, we realize: we may have become complete on our own now, but that our completeness, brought together, however infrequently tangential, because infrequently tangential, enriches our lives beyond measure. And that no matter the distance--through space, through time, through consciousness--we're still connected, we still yearn for each other's company, we'll still make plans for another evening like this: That one late summer twilight, as the warm breezes gently nudge us, we'll have a glass of blush in hand, we'll bring with us our stories collected along the way. An exercise on run ons. We'll look to the future, we'll look to our twilights, knowing that life will still be beautiful, no matter the distance.
4 Comments:
and hope was the last to come out of pandora's box. a beautiful life indeed, carolvs.
You make it sound so..nice. I wish you wouldn't do that. It's too much..it's too, too much.
jesus christ! that one hit me right in the balls man. yes, right between the legs and smacked the family jewels... wham!
what a beautiful thought. that nothing is ever lost, just changed & that the future will always hold a special day in where we meet the ones that made a difference along the way. beautiful!
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