I come here from time to time to view the paintings. The ones copied from memories long past.

I come here from time to time to view the paintings. The ones copied from memories long past. Hung up on the walls of this hotel I constructed just for us. Where time always stands still. The light pours over from the horizon where the sun has just set. Some days the walls are awash with blues and some days they are a soft fiery redish orange. The more I come here, the more I see that we're futher and further away from when we made these memories. I suppose soon it will just that I'm further and further away. I wonder if you still visit your memories like I do, but even that is improbable. So I'll just write these little letters. Purge out my heart one layer at a time. I can feel the skin healing quicker each time. The paintings are still a bit vivid and I sigh. Some relief. Perhaps soon I'll stop wondering if you're staring up at the same sky as me. Tracing stars with your finger. The way I wish to trace the constellations on your arms. Little wonderful birthmarks that would guide me to your eyes. Oh, how this hotel was built for us, and soon just me. When will I stop visiting. I do and don't want to find out. Leaning more on the I don't. They say time heals, and I do believe that. This little letter is me just pouring from the heart. It will sit in a section where very few to none will see. That's ok. We all need a little secret spot sometimes. Though...I wish you'd see it and know it's still dedicated to you. Like most things I used to say...were all for you.