These circles of pain still turn so strongly inside the city square. No one to hold my hand and walk down this empty street in the rain. just the pain.

It's always best to forget, I suppose, since things will never be the same. Memories of you remain.

You touching me with your eyes. Eyes that held the morning sky keeping me warm through the night.

Eyes possessed by passion melting my reason for knowing she still lingers even though she's gone.

I fell in love too soon, too fast, with a moment that wouldn't last.

Sculptures on the city square would turn. I didn't care. It seemed absurd this block would willingly revolve but you swore it could. The Russian restaurants that served us wine, we drank our time, the curtain draws before nine o'clock.

You lost your ticket on the train home
Somehow I had it on the train home
I gave it to you on the train home
You kept it with a grateful smile as though you had found the love you so desired.

Sometimes this life is filled with circles of pain. My thoughts grow cloudy to keep my eyes company. Sweet blessing of serenity and this remembrance of something so sweet so enflamed to be enamored by my being.

It's always best to forget, I cannot, I suppose. Will things ever be the same? Be not in vain this lust I cannot tame this heart so high that it would soar above the sky to be with you once more. Oh t'was T.S. who said that women come and go! But, would you love me, Michelangelo?

- Stevi Lee