Despite all the differing views br that pop up everynow and then, br The fact remains It is all a memory. br It rained the other day, My clothes br were soggy and clung to the skin br That smell was there, the one that br comes after a special rainfall, br I found myself walking in two roads br one from the now, and one from then. br I could see her at the front door, br smiling with a towel in her hand br willing me into her warm dry arms. br I chocked in the now, pulled weeds br from a wall, and looked lost. br Music takes me to her, summer br does too, Christmas is painful but br I enjouy the taste of her punch. br Everything that is something else br takes me back to her, br Yet I the creater of the feelings br can not.