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Look at a sky that's pure simplicity and picturesque.
"I feel like you've come to the end of your tether."
Last light glows and shimmers off a porcelain façade.
I can picture this moment in sepia tone; black and white.
Not a word; not a whisper.
He said "It's not like we haven't been here before,"
"Yeah, but it was working this time."
A knowing tear tumbled down her cheek and fell, alienated into the summer sunlight, and after an awkward silence and a reluctant goodbye, he turned and left - leaving only the overwhelming stench of bitterness and the lasting burden of hope.