Could I

is it enough to taste or do we need to linger a bit longer around the memory once filled with so much more. where have all the flowers fled to? I remember the garden, glorious dancing under the midnight moon and when you pressed against the petals in full bloom we knew there was forever, right behind that open door days and weeks now months and years, where did the seasons run to? these nights, they sneak up so quietly and never seem to leave. it's dark here and the weather's bad the music is turned down way too low. in fact, I can't hear anything feel any more the things we used to know...