Sometimes I think of you.
Sometimes is a place too, rather than just time — a when that could also be a where. It is a place you go to in between something and nothing, like a purgatory for weightless thoughts that do not have the will to move beyond impalpability. Sometimes is a place where your mind goes before it tells your hand to move your fingers to touch the spark wheel and light the cigarette dangling in your mouth. It is a place where your mind goes right before you make sense; it is a buffer, a space before nostalgia starts.
I think of you sometimes.
