on rainy days they met afar in peripheral bliss, but when those lonely eyes would lock in the briefest of standstill, they would always only know their lives were parallel, distilled in knee deep wish. the game they played, they fanned the flame until the smoke dismissed; and then one day, one went away, no look, no word, no kiss. the first lie and the last goodbye, immortal for the end of time.
i believe in lust. trust in infatuation. breathe in closed door conversations, brief encounters never rust. blessed be the dreamers, candid be the rogues, living lives in snapshots, cause a smile stays in vogue. and by the night, all come to life. cameos exposed.
a man alone would look upon the stars, with such decisive awe, to find alone his heart. somewhere up amongst the solar stories a spark ignites across his eye, and its known that starry heart his own, has set itself apart to signify some meaning in all the streaks and dots across the the black-lit sky. all luminous and pearled it begs above a world and looms, the view picturesque and human. and should a man alone speak out his soul against the fall of night, he’ll find his heart amongst the stars, from dark against the light.
somewhere along the line there are people, turned to light, etched into experience and burned to memory. these people, the times and words they speak, the places they were when you were too, in the end they all become you. their words inherit yours to share in memorial and wisdom, in expertise for all the dreams and dreamers, for the dreamless, for inspiration and insight. alive inside baiting on every breath for every momentary escape. when your past lives are coaxed with "why's" and goodbyes. parting, losing part of you in the minds of friends and lovers, and often others. but it's all alright, its all exposure, and we're all exposed; and in the end it's all we are. a sum of all the sons and daughters from all the faster fading suns and roads from which we rose.