the things we will leave behind.

Tonight a voice cuts me from afar: sings me sweet lullaby to heaven and back

the voice of a lover, a dreamer, a dream: who perhaps I once knew complete.

Tonight a voice calls me close, calls me close: calls me closer than two people can possibly be.

Closer than hearts and living souls: closer than skin and bone and flesh and mere human want.

And I see you: the dragon in my dreaming and the red beast in my wildsome sea.

And there: who knew a soul could hold this much of another person this gladly: this kindly: this painfully?

Tonight a voice I have heard before gentles me down: touch and taste and feel become words that mean nothing compared to the sound of your voice: your heart on mine.

And then I imagine a world without boundaries and countries, red and silver-run

Where under the sun we love with all we are and are loved in turn and kind: where over the seas and under the sky they wait for me, circle dancing.

And soul is a song that a young man sings: eyes shut and music like forever: living dreams and counting wishes

Seeing things become true and meeting people he never knew: singing his beating heart into song: knowing that this was true all along.

And the world, yea: she waits for me: she asks if I will be there in the fall? In the summer: spring: winter eve?

She waits and makes beautiful the sky for me: and paints the dreamings and the wonderings the loveliest red

for the day I will leave the ground for flying.

5:54AM on a thursday and I'm the loneliest I've been for a long long time coming.

Oh, shit. I'd cry but what's the point. Why do we do this to ourselves?

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. Help.