Today is February 15th, and that is how I'll always remember it. A day after February 14th, a day before the 16th. Nothing in between.
There are many things I could say. Many things I could share. But I would tell them to the wind, and the wind would carry them away. There is nothing to stop the ebb of me on a day such as today. Nothing happens on this day.
There is a puddle of me spilling over itself on the floor. I'm a melting, lapping mess. I'm a pile of death and dust. Once this all was life.
I'll never forget what I held. I'll never forget the smell, the feeling, the colour. I'll never forget unfurling it, open, and letting the water carry it away. But that did not happen today. That was another day. And today, I have nothing to remember.
