He lives his life as though it were just about to begin. Inhabiting
a space that he does not recognize as his. He lives alone. His days
diverted by the past. Precious moments compressed into memories
depart on destiny's sleek steed.
The love he held in his hands slips through his fingers. The present
is a dull persistent ache. Misshapen memories transform love to winsome
flashbacks, magnified feelings, and regrets.
He makes plans to jump-start his life again. But a piece of his soul is
gone, buried beneath the willow tree where sweet breezes
threaten to sweep away fragile illusions. He feels tentative and spent,
stranded inside himself, more or less alive.
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