twist

The sand is hot, the sand is cold, the sand that dusts between our toes as we gaze upon this mess of a line that is broken and bleeding in front of our eyes in our minds and the dusk and the dawn meet and come together over coffee and crumpets. They talk and as they trade thoughts they seek a medium… what color is it, what pigments will it be? Is it different to you or different to me? Does it go up or does it fall down? What hour will be day and what time is the night? Its all infinite when these moments collide. Is it the end or beginning of life? Its not black, its not white, its not grey, its not right! Its like time just decided its freedom it wants and the only way to show is by mixing it up and creating this pallet of blacks and blue swirls with a rhythm. With a melody. With a beat unlike before. Its inconsistent and overdrawn and underappreciated, yet…its one of the most intriguing songs ever bled form the heavens above. I keep singing. I keep whispering and I cannot stop like the whistle of these birds which surround us now, flapping their wings and flowing together as if they could somehow erase this train wreck of time. it's a mess. it's a hot, hot mess. Its breathtaking. But now your only thought interrupting is how we shall ever live without time…without age or an hour. Theres no crying nor laughter without befores and afters. No rule nor unruly. We all just live. We'll all just love. No limitations. No limitations.