Nightfalling. Design the breeze of entry flooding through the glass. Open it and let the wind ride in on us...
They never worked it out. Strip white lines, never did I feel them through me. Before I ever get to speak, ever get to breathe, before I ever gets to live like I did that night. Sound asleep.
And I remember the sunset. Clear as day. A valid example of the intentions piercing the comfort we suggested frantically. I never saw you so happy. And even If I did, short-coming to the situations ahead of us, it was all but amazing to me. Because I waited so long for this and finally, it delivered itself to the visuals of audio, in the form of hands, embracing me so counting on them, we held each other�s faces and reassured ourselves of any casualities that night.
And this is our disease-
Her hands in form of branches, pulling us into this sea of bark. Endlessly growing to feed our needs to speak and leave. We grow. There were times I would wait for them, but they would never arrive. So we held each others hands into the air, one on top of the other, tinkering with our ability to grasp the light and bring it back down before the sun came up. Loving brothers to all.
We are human | We are an orchestra
Like ghosts. My thoughts surpass the sound deriving from home before we cashed our feelings in.
And the music fades out for this...
you never take the exit ramp marked 108 again.