pretend with me, that when i say my days and nights spent within walls, (and little else) are lapped golden with that same happiness, that same potential we knew one short year ago, pretend with me, that this is as it should be.
pretend with me, that this sunlight is the same glow which once tapered our skin which lit our smiles, which entered into our eyes a world of glass towers and wonder - in which we are only a speck within a valley yes, pretend with me, that this same joy can be found within my island of six hundred and sixty square feet where I look out my window and come to memorize the buildings.
humour me one moment, a minute where the smile does not fade, where your eyes do not betray the recognition of a lie, and allow me the fiction that life is as it had been, that nothing has changed, that there was no year ago, and that this much-talked normal is the air with which we breathe, now.