There and back again.
A tale without end.
Sights and sounds that bend.
If I couldn't stay, I wouldn't leave.
I'd find a way to sleep where waves
barely move sand.
I can't find it.
Its just a falling promise
where once I was brilliant and crisp
and now am gray with ash and hair.
I think I need to move again. I think I'd like to live in Paris for a while. Would anyone like to move there with me? I could use a creative roommate, someone who can show me how to retap the ether.
Its crazy enough to work.
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