Pause The Moon- Letters Unsent #4

What is it, I ever wanted of this, you dared to ask? Nothing and everything, and only this:
A time to make a heart warp with regrets. Melodies and movies and signs on the streets and highways, to make one remember a destination when the summer was young and promising, scorching the steel in which hearts had grown, as decades and the maps of lives became etched around eyes and mouths. Mouths that once paused the moon when they met. Mouths now emptied of each other. Tea and beer and cigarettes. White wine and a bar stool that bore witness to eyes of the world staring and stopping the sun in a sky with a memory of daylight.  Pages poured from a soul trapped in print with ink chronicling a crisis between logic and lust. Pavement and oceans knew of  the chasm. It occupied places in the afternoons, while the rains visited the valley like a secret code tapping between flesh and fire. It was and will remain, without quenching. 

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