Does time not erase the memory, destroying all the fragments of a shattered dream? The picture was so perfect so undeniably unique. Every moment, Every encounter, Every spoken word, Every intimate gesture, was sewn into the fabric of a mismatched cloak of love. But, no matter how strong the thread one tug, one snip, one freyed edge, would be the undoing..... And so it was!! you held the scissors, I wore the cloak and time refused to mend.....