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.