little

we were so close, weren't we?
once.
close enough to taste and breathe happy.
our little dreams tied together, christmas bows and knotted rings of twine.
our little faults made peace and became something nice, i think. something neat.
and you held me as i held you as we held onto fleeting faith.
we coalesced there in dawn, convalesced and came together once more each eve, turning the world to a suspended broken mirror.
our little whispers made a grand symphony, didn't they, in between unsure sighs and cigarette puffs?
little broken bells struggling to the surface.
and on nights like this, when all i can see is our little home inside each-other, our little freckles suspended midair, little constellations among tiny little clouds of stars, your voice keeps me awake, a little shout on distant horizon and
it's the little things that hurt the most.