clear blue fabric lines the streets before my eyes, it is punched through and then repaired, by warm-colored fingers of people, standing there, afraid to linger but their eyes pierce the veil of silence. I've turned my music down and taken off my sunglasses to listen to the smell of light, it's gnarled and frosty and soothing breezing and ruffling, something a bit too tough an athlete of a wind, not concerned with me approaching a higher goal, playing rough through my hair, content to let it be but not- at the same time. We change the world we live in, regardless of intentions. Flow through my vents or my windows, I don't care, I will still breathe you in and inhale your scent even though I try to drive so far as to leave you behind the seasons pass, grow, and fade away I forget the worlds in which we used to play something in the careless whisper, I can hear the ocean in your heartbeat. It's a word that you say. It's you, shaking your hair down, in one particular way. And it's me, driving and forgetting and learning to give you away. Day by day. Day by day.