orange lights strung.
here-n-here.
i look into the deep abyss.
don't "they" say something about eyes being the gateway to the soul?
well if thats true.
your soul must be dark and beautiful
shooting forth in space
you float past me.
i reach out.
hoping.
reaching for your hands.
touch.
exsistence with you is endlessly wonderful
peering through the looking glass
she can't tell
who, what, when, or where.
all she knows is that this life is awesomely unpredictable.
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