echo
jane
my
sundays
spent
wrapped
in
flowers
sometimes
trying
to
put
ourselves
back
together
like
long
-lost
puzzle
pieces
.
and
on
the
final
sigh
before
we
retire
,
saturated
in
each
other
;
the
bittersweet
goodbye
of
simultaneously
being
whole
and
separate
yet
.
090511
...
past
when
the
clouds
cleared
away
,
the
echoes
of
our
voices
escaped
us
to
the
heavens.
090511
what's it to you?
who
go
blather
from