Passing Clouds

passing clouds.
we had a spark.

but not enough friction to fuel a fire.

I guess I thought we had begun writing the first paragraph to a new chapter together.

the human imagination is an only child that never seems to grows up,

and I tend to let mine run wild,

in an attempt to avoid having it die an early death.

never the less,

I will continue sweating in the sunlight of a bright future,

finding momentary shade in passing clouds,

like you.