Pointing our fingertips and striking the spirit. Don't you remember the glow of a thousand stars? The whispering sun only spoke of time. It slowly grew to hit the earth.
Nowadays nothing is in reach. My ideas bounce off empty walls, with failure echoing back to my ears. Paper doesn't sing, Crystals don't produce the right pixels. Music is hacked to pieces. Every moment lacks depth. Life has turned into television, starring a statue. A cold one at that.
Between pulls and heat and crossing and lines lies unease, eased between my two halves, focused to split me in two. Sanctuary was to be unique and new. Only the darkness was new,
for in the void
my voice was lost, and silence smothered my shaking.
What have I known, what do I know? Smiles make me stop and stare. Those moments. oh - Those perfect moments. I have to stare a little longer. Linger on your motions. Your eyes catch mine. We both have to look away, it is to much for sight for words for sounds. These feelings. I can reminisce about us.
I remember when I was happy. I could hold God in my hands.
I am so happy that
you. And I.
Exist.
It is because of all of you.
I barely make it through the day when I see you. You see my heart skips a beat... and then another.
Sometimes I pretend we photographed the escapades of light. Sometimes I remember the tents on the ocean. Sometimes I pretend we have seen sun rises. Sometimes I pretend that we go places no one dares to go. Sometimes I remember the brevity of our moments.
I hope you know the way I touch your hands they are a part of you, I could never fully understand these wrinkles and tendons and the dirt under your nails. Just like mine. I just want to hold your hand. Then a tear Right on your thumb spreads through the dirt and makes mucky water It is very similar to the slums of India. I see your face. Oh - and I can't even understand your hands. You make me shiver.