These , my dreams and dramas my slowly evolving orbit suspended on the skin of time circling a star, priming for light as the dead moon breathes sunlight and the sea licks the shores of imperfection. Grant me these mistakes, these hidden scars, these pools of irises projecting forgotten stories on guarded eyelids. Indulge me this love this paradox of submission forming icicles of unspoken words churning deep waters spewing out garbage and treasures into these scars bending my fingers with the unending lines from my palms. This is my slowing evolving orbit suspended on the fragile skin of time.
That, which has a beginning has an end. That, which is limitless and infinite is without a beginning and without an end.