There will be missed punctuation, there will be hyperbole, there will be misstated intents and broad brushes and non sequiturs
But there will be a post, and a snippet of mind saved from when empty glasses hosted my reality this evening
We’re all memories of better people, after all, aren’t we? If we remember them or not
In ebb and flow, where fleet meets fickle and their feet get sticky
There won’t be regrets, there won’t be a reckoning against
There will just be
