there are lines to be drawn and conclusions to be crossed

and in the middle of both lies a pile of memories, good ones - filled with laughter and spaghetti, the tangy smell of beer and the sweetness of sunday sheets. let's leave them where they lay, in their happy sprawl. let us leave the aching ones as well, for they will be like rotting grapes, and add the flavor of good wine to the rest if left alone.

let us sigh, and smile, and let us close the door...twilight comes, and then the dawn - and oh~ the dawn brings songs of colour and light...

and those songs are always the ones to sing