This wander turns to lust and I can't stop myself from grasping peter pans shadow.
You're real, I'm here, and it's a slide into the sand mans castle.
Touch begets forgetfulness and warning signs part way to an issuance
of self reliance and morality a peanut in this glorious gallery.
Snowflakes touch eyelashes in a moment of forgotten sun
where honestly lies along lust. It's a single crimson thread;
dreaming of paper cranes dangling from spider silk to cast
a curtain across the wall.
It's uncertainty cast with a shade of care this time.
I promise not to break what I didn't make.

This place has become inoperable, I know now that I don't trust myself with honestly like it does with me and what does that really make me? Lest fear turn up monsters under the bed I cast myself aside and allow reality to begin removal. I know there are larger things than myself at work.

Do you consider yourself ready for life?

People tell me they can't even recognize me and I know they mean it as a good thing but it's weird because I feel like I haven't changed at all.

You're thousands of miles away and I should be watching that movie with you, helping the other one with tests and saving sanity while I can. I just don't really know how that's done. Solitude helps, but the itch continues to crawl, and I crave unknown conversations with strangers, and even better debates with friends. I am found in translation, transposition, transit. I linger on midnight, cohorting with trailers and taxis. I smile surrounded by blankets, a pillow and a card game. Apples to apples anyone? Judgment halts and throwing unexpected smiles alight a daydream and muted nonsense.

We are among travelers,
and we slide :
splitting sideways and through one another's realities,
perceptions, understanding.
what is history but a tangled wonder?