I hear your voices, coming from your heads, like the roaring ocean, as you write your words in waves upon the shore of technological streams.
Your words, ever flowing of emotion and thought, from love and longing to demons and angels. Mused by passion to pain, released from tears to whiskey.
Typed letters like petals of wild flowers in a field on the brink of deep sunset.
No matter who, the yearning, the elated, the cutter, the prophet...all poets singing notes off the tongue in our opera.
The songs, movements and spoken word touch a part of my soul, relating even in the slightest, as we exchange our differences on one grand Broadway.
Tis the most elegant eccentric yet eclectic set beyond the eyes' ability, seen only in a world of our minds.
You, I, we...are here.