the world trembled. all rusty forks and broken spoons. a bottomless hunger too vast to ever be fed.
the darkness simmered. a tea kettle on a low flame. always lingering on the edge of eruption. but never achieving release.
we allow the road to take us. to show us places we've never been. getting lost is the only way to be found.
color and wind. silence and panic. all the unlocked doors that swallow our grief.
time weaves its way throughout our skin. putting its various knots in our veins. we are the sum of every moment we've experienced.
new hands try to shape us, but our clay hardened long ago.
the maps stayed folded. the windows barely open. still we see the rain getting closer. we feel the storm strengthening.