Seasons.

I saw you,

through the dim haze of a smokey blue. Slow tempo, clutching my own heart. Swing softly as the jazz musicians unravel me.

I saw you there,

lost to the world, far, far away, oh distant eyes, what are you searching for? Lonely one, when you turn and leave as you’ve learned to do, remember… Not all love ends like you’ve thought it to. They say there are seasons.

And I still believe in Spring.

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