In the odd moment when you cross my mind, it's like I've stopped along the highway at a seedy motel
in the rain- that heavy feeling you get from tired furniture and tacky drapes. Hanging on the smell of molded carpet and stale cigarettes, memories of you suffocate. Did we ever breathe the freshness of green, spring love? Or was it as I remember- struggling to adjust rabbit ears on an empty TV screen and seeing only snow?
Blessings,
Christine
Regis