Staring at the moon, feeling so sentimental. I've been thinking of you often…

I've had time to think again –– I was like a draft horse for the past year, but I'm no good for plowing nor am I versatile. Let me sit with this for a second. Temperamental but wanting to be loved.

Three Springs passed hoping I'd forget by now, but I’d never feel as tender again. I think I was in love but not sure anymore. I don’t know why I reflect on the train so much. I wasn't sure most of the time, wasn't I?

Maybe I'll talk to you soon.

The sprinklers just started to go off, but I'm too tired to move; the closest thing I've gotten to crying while it rained in awhile.

I’m walking as fast as I can. Billowing in the wind like a horse’s first breath outside the womb. I try to catch up but I can’t any longer, try to grasp one last time. Maybe I should just let go. It’s only a matter of time till one no longer wants to play. The truth is that every calculated move is a game of charades. It’s nearly impossible for one person to do this on their own; would you like to try again?