Evening

Perhaps I needed it then, but it means little to me now. I wonder though, where she was headed to. she, and her false affection, I am alive in this moment, and my memory doesn't love. So there was the rape of love in the place where the angels sing, and she was apart from the angels although somehow, she was on high. And she had urged me to remember her, and in this moment, all I can do is consider the moment. And today, I saw what I perceived to be beauty, and I addressed it and I told it so. And this beauty, thanked me for my appreciation, and then the beauty was gone. And the evening is crazy and it envelopes, it is helpless within itself, it doesn't know, it is lost in itself. I wonder if evening is easy with itself>?