Recall

It's overcast. You can't breath. No way you'll go out there, no way. You fucked it, so sleep in it. & so, that's it, I guess. Over on that hill over there is a green house. Built by an industrious man with weathered hands. You'll probably never see it again. On a boat. You're being towed. You remember you had short hair. You could feel the wind cutting sharply onto your scalp. She threw something, you laughed. You were both on a dock. He took a photograph. It was cold then, but presence left you feeling warm inside. Your hands were cold. You couldn't grasp the neck. You faltered. Remember that smell? Recall is a motherfucker.