letting that thought slip by like a bullet splitting the breeze

we yearn across distant borders

I look up to the stars and think,
"How pretty, I wonder who they are?"

_You know who we are, bound up in lines of pain and suffering and love._

venting steam like a thing which breathes

unpeeling revealing that which only shines my moonlight glimmering off the edge of a darkened posture blades of grass shimmering wet with dew

BREATH