Her words whistles white light winding around my head down into somewhere within where I find my silence. Someplace else entirely and eternally where echoes imagined were memories more fresh the the breath I am stealing each second.
She stares not at me but through me. How has she found this heaven I've hidden from the world for so long? There is something of her in me. A voice. A moment. A rhythm I've felt since my heart first produced the beat I've moved to since my face first met light.
Wherever we go, I know, the she will always be with me. She has always been with me.
I am not afraid to be alone.
(D. Moss)
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