as he always does. i do not think he knows. my hair was a crew cut in any photos she had taken with me. i was much more fit back then, a military man. he leans against the school fence in his black coat. james taps his foot to my music. i can see its cords playing in his very soul.
there she appears, from around the corner. her brown hair hanging straight down to her shoulders. she is wearing a new coat. one that i am sure blocks out every last attempt this cold wind sends her way. she looks the same as she used to those long ten years 