The Way We Were

The Way We Were



Let your hair play in gentle cascades of scarlet, your emerald eyes dancing beneath the dappled shade. Me in my father's stained shirt, and you my sweet, in the softest of whites, tilting your head with a smile.

Pretty as a rosebud with wildflowers tangled in your hair. How I wish to keep them long after today, to press in a record of our memories.

It was here we often went, leaving the world behind for a weathered old swing set. It was here the lilies grew full, begging you to pick them. My Lily, barefoot and beautiful in our own secluded garden, laughing as the grass tickles your feet.

You never knew it was I who put the flowers there for you.

My eyes drifted to your lips, flush with the autumn chill, but you did not notice, combing your hair with a hand. How I love you, my dearest. How I wish I could tell you.

I wonder if I ever shall?

A moment passes and I look away, gaze falling guiltily to my tattered jeans. How unlikely fate would allow us a chance, the Beauty deserving so much better than this mangled Beast.

My eyes close against the breeze and I catch your concern, asking if I feel alright. Black meets emerald, an instant of pure joy, and I simply nod -- lost in your eyes.

I will always be alright, I wish to say, as long as you are here with me. With the flowers I grew for you; with that smile on your face.

My Lily, my only. To stay like this always.