About to leap to fill but then stop, as it does; what it would always would in the time of it's own, no need to delve for could, or should; just a roam in the will of always would.
As strong and bright as best light. The kind of shine that does not dig or seek removal of dark, it excavates with spinning flourish of radiate; never too much in your escalate.
Caught in a thought of you; carnivals pass without a clap and no welcome for dancing dragons, a blind spot to fireworks; my sky is full of you. A marathon goes by unacknowledged, as my eyes are on a sky full of you.
Anything may seem a half life after such rush, so when the rescind is real it is totally apparent, nothing more than a fade of the full, just because the clear of the clarity that was; the end of our tour, our tour to source, the simple end of a tour de force.
If I had the choice would I run with excitement when I see your name pop up or would I decide to be unmoved by a jolt of you and sit, statically, while another somewhere else involuntary leaps, at an arrangement of letters.
If our hands touched daily would I think of you lots? When you went to the shop would I think of you lots? Would I make up a voyage of synchronicity where the only thing between us is invisible sustaining air; if you were close would flights of fancy cease; no more puzzle, the final piece.