Such is the magic of the moment that you quite forget where you are: spun slow set against the glistening of softened light. Mirrored in a thousand ways by the ever-turning spiral of your lucid mind.
Shall we stop to touch each other, shall we stop to appreciate the precise facets of this emerald dream.
Towards the distance of time, we etch outstretched on the increasing horizon of reality. Pulled like soft toffee into immaculate sweet strings that taper to an impossible curl of infinity.
As if all of this was a solution, as if we had found somewhere that belonged to us. Alone, precious and delicately shrouded in our own imagination, we cuddle the cold steel like a warming friend. Feeling the acidic sting of decay like honey on soft white bread.
Get me out of this, let me leave the shadows behind and let me into the light. Let me leave this stale and torrid existence of instructions and horror.
