i miss sitting on a grassy field to wait for the sun to set, listening to the ground sigh with the last rays of sunshine. i miss the feeling of the dry twilight breeze murmuring soft scents of the day that's about to end. i long for the sight of those hearts whose wings flutter over the wind's promise of nightly peace.

but i had to close my eyes, or else i would see the source of that distinct laughter; moments are ruined when certain truths forcefully enter your consciousness, like right choices that aren't real.

the wind should be blowing steadily stronger by now, forcing the the heart-shaped tips of those wind vanes that we place on our rooftops to point to one another, seldom at each other. yet those arrows still point at those directions even after the wind has long died down.

i want to let go of verses, like one flies kites. i want to let them fly against the mad dictates of the wind.