Fleeing, but we are one for a chase. Grasping the strands that are still left.

Configuring the past in screenplays as we sleep. The perfect symphony of hauntingly beautiful memories.

The snow builds within it's globe, as two ghostly lovers pirouette to 13 pieces, Op. 76: 2. Etude. Her dress swaying with the wind, his eyes forever fixed on hers.