Bright lights flicker on the horizon as the city rests in a deep slumber. Dreams come and go as they please while nightmares lurk around, startling the souls that seek solace in their apparent meanings. High above no stars shine. Tonight the sky is held together by clouds and rain pouring into the ground that is still warm from too many feet, too fast, too slow. A porcelain mug rests on the windowsill, dusty curtains and unclear glass wide open to welcome the peaceful joy within the breeze that ripples the cooling tea. Autumn leaves get carried away with the flow, erratic patterns drawn over the slowly forming wastelands that were once unkept gardens and are now treasured memories.

Two bodies had once been on their grass, clothes scattered around as if nobody would ever see. Sunset oranges had yet to become crimson, so there they had laid as if it had just become morning, tangled and sweaty and worn and aching, even breaths and way too meaningful scents. “Catch me. I'm falling.” Those pools had shone bright right then. Not just two bodies on the grass.

I'm sorry.