this summer evening, hushed and balmy. cicadas shrill a song in the grove, diffusing through the air. it is almost 7 now. the sun tilts to the horizon. i sit on a hill on the other side, where the grass is downy soft and moves in waves. the pink, purple, and orange blossom upon the clouds, stretching far and wide. peering into the distance, rainbow flames blowing around on cold bricks and stuccos, afterglow streaming upon my face. i squeeze my eyes shut, and breathe from a dancing flow to bath in the last minute warmth. i am drifting at twilight.

the moment of sundering the world into revival and languishment.

back in my moonlit room, the half-burnt candle floats in its tranquility. i see myself. my shadow on the wall is flickering. i gaze at her. i observe. so does she. silence is our infinity. a moist stew of soil and grass fills the air, clinging to my nose. waving goodbye, i set out on a journey into the outside patter.

nothing is more important than this now!