When I was careful still, when I still watched my words or felt embarrassed by a failed joke, life was this uncontrollable massacre of days and beauty. But now life is a twisty tree and the branches above me are what lies ahead, and I can see the light shining through most of the time.

I am living for tomorrow. Not for this moment, this daydream. And you were on another plane far above me in the clouds. You swept up + down the leaves just enough so that I could feel the future in the heartbeat of the day. So now I sit hopeful on the edge of everything I've seen and touched and loved.

My body craves music, my arms crave the grazing fingertip, but my mind knows best. I can't imagine the day when beauty sits head to head with the mediocrity and they have a merging of spirit, rising up and up until the people can only see a flickering, wavering chord in the sky. Perhaps then a bright little flame will light inside the minds of everyone and we will realize how much we really have.

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