When I started this piece the intention was of course to complete it. But it got to the point where I was afraid to touch it further and mess it up. (That, and it depressed me because at the time I was going through a rough patch in a relationship - so it carries a stigma from that)
In it's current state it tells a tale of love and passion. But now one has to wonder just how long did it last? A day/week/month/year/forty years? Since it's unfinished - the possibilities are endless. The story isn't set in stone yet. (But for me it represents lies and deceit.)