I sense the pale blue of his shades whose expansion touches me. We relate in a relative way, but what if not relative at all, but defying time/space? Our conversations are magnetic yet not static. Imagine attached mode without freedom? Nay! Air fuels fire in a stir and we absorb the exchange of information.
Ah, the fresh breath that is breathed into me with words. Simple words. We speak of love in regard to opposite sexes and I question the reality or meaningfulness of its nature. Is it in fact meaningful? Is it our age or the age that we are in that create things as thus? Alas, we are left to ponder.
For the record, I would like to note that the greatest joys are the sorrows that produce works. The works are a display of passion. I feel his sorrow and I see his works. ~ Maggie ~ January 19, 2009 @ 12:57 p.m. EST
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