June 14, 2012 § 4 Comments

As distance grows and desires reassemble, daylight begins a waltz.

Tucked amidst the clouds, decades of books lie scattered, as soft jazz calls out to the rain. We search through more than ourselves as fading paper reminds us of journeys we’ve taken only with our minds. In memory of who we were and who we sought to be, we gather wet soil and mould another becoming day. To remember that our lives are but fleeting, and that tomorrow will bring more rain.

Tomorrow, there will be.

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