Anywhere. I’m not bothered really.
What he meant was he didn’t care enough to think of somewhere.
And so here we are again.
the light is dim these days, and grey nights smudge over all memories of soft summer skies.
the swirling patterns inside each glass
are memories that i don’t often think of
but sometimes a flash of colour darts across my mind and out again
like marbles in a long forgotten child’s game
wild horses couldn’t drag me there you said. and even as you said it i knew you didn’t mean it. galloping horses or not, your heart was pounding. and so was mine.
the view from the top is stunning.. new glass-fronted buildings shimmer in the sunlight, train lines stretch and curl around, with bridges climbing over streets full of traffic and heat.. but the most stunning thing about my city is the people.