we’d…

we’d spend hours lookin’ at old photographs…colored pictures of when we were in love…vacations to Canada…New York…shots of Paris in an album marked, Memories…

always started with a bottle of red…poured till the last drop was gone…we’d just pull the cork outta’ another one an’ continue-on…lookin’ at shots in high school annuals…hair parted down the middle…freckles…tough guy poses an’ pretty girl smiles…

spent our time in the past…her with a family on a farm pickin’ corn during harvest time…football games for the boy who’d go-on to sell insurance…me…talkin’ ’bout a life with a wife an’ a loneliness that was always there…

wine would turn to whiskey…more talk of times in the past…never wanting to face the present…a future…took comfort in misery…multiple affairs…lies upon lies…always havin’ to cover tracks…fresh foot-prints of lover’s paths ’round midnight…

an’ we’d talk till we passed-out…music blarin’…windows opened out into suburbia with blue street-lights givin’ off a haunting hue… the fan blowin’ pictures of old times…portraits flappin’ in the wind…

we’d spend hours lookin’ at old photographs…colored pictures of when we were in love…vacations to Canada…New York…shots of Paris in an album marked, Memories…

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