“There’s always summer to/think/realize/laze./There’s always summer/and the year after that/and the year after that/and the year after that/and the rest of our lives.”
Memories may fade as distance grows wider between ourselves and our young selves, but one thing remains constant: if we dig down deep into the recesses of our experiences, hold light up to the seeds of our current moment, brush off the dust, we might find something worth writing about.
