old thoughts, new questions

Really, how hard can it be? To put pieces of the past and present together. They say time wont kill love, but timing will. A small play in London I have no chance to see before it was over, music composed by one Neil Codling. Maybe I should go to London, just for a while and connect the dots. Before that, here in New York, an era ended with a night of refined denial, we were all so experienced in playing the game and forgot usually the best swimmers drown. You see, If I could take it all back, I would. And if time stopped the moment we met, remembrance became just a formula, then I would have moved on with no regrets. But just between us, life went on, it was sad, yet somehow, years in the making, still made sense. Love? You called it first.