Neon street lamps, rain drops, freshly baked nostalgia
I see myself along with you, on rusty railings
Under the coastal moon: the salty breath of
poignant adieus, bringing us together where lovers have kissed.
But, we were not lovers.
Unwelcomed reminisciences, sad movies and yet burnt bridges still remain my
Favourite spot for an evening walk.
Scarred, hence not scared.