lately, whatever had come
was to be held in regard,
for they all came
with swords hidden like arms
and venomous words as sweet as the sky.

though i find it quite fun
to fool around
laissez-faire
where fantasy comes to the world
and infinity becomes,
Intimacy spitted by the universe ~

ephemeral feelings now rather ecstatic
of  Fleeting Faces carry the same sound of solitude.
{ a galaxy to be told,
never whole }

but when it's over,
the colossal weight of whatever lies behind the door
recoats our hands, our teeth,
as names are forgotten, light is gone.
it wintrifies

and we
continue
- gently down the stream.