If I were to write every thing about you, I would. If I were to write about you every day, I would. You're like a missile; eye-catching, loud, leaves a print behind. It's hard not to record your every move. You're like the Earth; although people have dissected and has proven what's inside of you, they haven't really scavenged inside. Who knows what else is hiding in between your many layers? Stripping apart like getting home after spending a day in the open snow, tearing off each piece of clothing.

-m.b