We yearn our lives’ cinematic.

The purity
in the naivety
of young mothers'
blissful smiles',
as laughter pours
out of front doors,
and porch chairs ring
like backyard swings.
Dancing to the farewell
of Sunday's sunsets'
in the rebirth of spring.

The noisy grain
in the subtle grey
of dimly lit signs
That read:
"no vacancy,”
as music punctuates
silent broken smiles
and our lover’s sorrow
leaves us hollow
in the autumn of Sunday mournings’.

Seeing life nostalgic
through the present lens:
a filter of the past,
and it’s already memory.

This moment,
this moment’s so important,
and you know,
you know
you’ll never be the same.

Then you wake up,
you wake up
and remember you forgot,
you forgot to reply
you forgot to forgive yourself
you forgot to try again.