seeing

The days pass like years, their heights, their faults, their bottoms can’t be solved by kissing alone.

I remember days passing like New Hampshire summer clouds. Now the days stick. Everyone has their stop.

I don’t think this is going to work, then I said that I was kidding but I know that I am not. Can I see where this is going?

You're a liar, a cold one, where this is normal, where it is definitely you and yours, you not me.

I don’t think that I want just me, me, me. I want the knew, I want us and ours. I don't want typical.