The Yellow Bottle

We will stop talking slowly in the future. I might still be smoking the same old brand of cigarettes  we used to smoke. Or even keep the dresses  you left home after a quick visit. But. Slowly, in the future, we will stop talking. I might still listen to the same Playlist we created. Even keep the movies we love to watch over and over again. I swear I will keep the books  we kept exchanging, and sure,  I will go through the highlighted neon green letters. Over and over again. I will go through the old hard disk full of our selfies. The one on a rainy day in the cable cars over that dam and gardens, The one at the railway station when  I was saying you a brief good bye. The one where you looking at the stars,  I can barely see you but you still there,  looking at the stars and gazing at me often. But. Eventually, in the future, we will stop talking. I might call you occasionally over a long-distance phone call.  And I am sure I will ask about your ...