This is not for you, this is not even for me. None of this belongs to this us we all claim to be, to this us we all claim to want to become. But somehow the light of day and dark of morning all seem to fit somewhere, somewhere in all of this. I don't know who this us is and will be, but I can feel all that it will become. Within every glare of the suns rays and every pulse of the moons light I know why the wind does what it does with petals and leaves and hair and skin. Just for a taste of me for you, you for me and us for all. For all. For all.
-AL