Ventosus.

There is a time when I look out my window and the sun has just set; but the sky is still light and the remnants of its warm glow has yet to fade. Then the perfect breeze blows in through the window and I’m reminded of the moments I tried to pretend we never had. It’s a cold wind, harsh and brisk…but it holds on to a warm undertone that keeps me hanging on until I feel it on my face again. It keeps me on my toes, waiting for it to return. I suppose it’s just like you, blowing through and leaving only to come back just when I’ve started to let go…





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