the tips of my fingers tingle with a steady carbonation. who knows what will come of tomorrow? it has been so long, what will these lips and this body ever be able to offer?
my skeleton and marrow are the ones with the longest memory. the ends of the hairs on my skin seem complacent and aloof.
who could love someone so used to leaning against the walls? when will being ordinary be extraordinary? how long is long enough to find oneself amongst the many?
chance encounters here and there, glances and glimmers of possibilities, and the days retire into nights. dreams of flying high and into the skies, further, soaring, gliding. and all i would like to do is land for once.
lament nothing, and prepare for everything good coming your way.