Maybe you saw her first? Caught a glimpse between the lines, between the letters, like a ghost in the mirror, a ghost in the wings?

Sublime is something you choke on after a shot of tequila.

What miracle is this? This giant tree. It stands ten thousand feet high But doesn't reach the ground. Still it stands. Its roots must hold the sky.

Here then at long last is my darkness. No cry of light, no glimmer, not even the faintest shard of hope to break free across the hold.

Here then - the after math of meaning. A liftime finished between the space of two frames.

And where there is no Echo there is no description of space or love. There is only silence.

Scars are the paler pain of survival received unwillingly and displayed in the language of injury.