For someone who likes to function, I really don't get enough sleep for that status. 5:20 in the morning and still waiting to go to bed. Heh. Good luck with that one. Too much caffiene, anticipating a night's worth of work and... well... this. I figured I would start this sooner but, as you well know about this stranger, movies call and distractions beckon. This stranger wishes to remain a stranger to even herself, to be honest. The words that come out of her brain typically scare her a bit and tend to try and rhyme when she knows they shouldn't or won't or don't want to by themselves until she keeps typing and writing the script for this dizzy romance of syntax and verbs. Nonsense is the game, are you ready to play for the hit of the night or the dawn of this bright day that comes to destroy my peace, joy in the clothing of shadowing figures that haunt and disfigure my attention?
No words. No voice. Just tugs from all sides of my brain to my chest to my neck that wishes that someone would hold it. Cry on it. Beat to the sound of the pulse in it. Why should I be alone this morning? I'm not, though, don't you see? There's love around me, capturing every glance I take and move I make until I've no choice but to take a peek and see. Majesty.
His words are honey and his walk is of dew. The morning brings his calling and the night he subdues. Within each breath, he gives life and glory. Within each swipe, destruction meets itself.