You lean back lazily in your chair, and blow a stream of smoke into the air. I watch the fumes unfurl like little secrets, dissipating in mere seconds.


We kissed lazily as the trains rushed by beneath us, swinging our sneakered feet in the air and whooping into the dusk.
Young and wild, but not very free.
"I'm going to miss the train." you laugh, and we race through a dark playground, neon streaks of adolescence.

All my memories are laced with the sounds of trains pulling in and out of stations, the call of conductors telling crowds to be careful, the whistles indicating the closing of doors.
My memories are laced with the sounds of hellos and goodbyes, the subtle warnings to guard body and soul, the ever-ticking hands of the clock.
We didn't have enough time.
Or maybe we did, and we just didn't know how to appreciate what we had.
Very sad, very regrettable, but very boy and girl of you and I.

Everything gets easier with practice, but goodbyes never do.