Just Friends

ots

It seems to always come back to me, softly, like a petal of a rose, or one of its thorns, striking me

It seems to come back to me; the vagueness of it

The conceptual errors of my imagination

The logistical arrangement of my sequential aura

 Of my… elongated vision of us

It does seem daydream-material

A movie-magic sort of scheme

The way we’d work out to be

I wanted to be something so subtle to you

The morning sun never seems to rise without having it corrupted by clouds

The clouds seem to get so emotional and overprotectocal

When they see us together

But I’m wondering

What if…

What if we were only just friends the whole entire time?

And no one ever knew of it as such?