.
There is something
about old spaces.
You may not remember,
but you haven't forgotten;
like brushing your teeth.
You think you miss it,
you dream of it,
you say you wish to go
back in time.
Back.
To go back.
Wish to go back.
Lies.
You wouldn't dream of it.
Go back as you are,
now and we'll see.
Cobwebbed cars
riding along hazy
roads. Houses going
in and out of focus.
Real? Dream? Memory?
Who knows.
There's something about
old spaces.















