"Here is all I have for you.
It isn't much.
There used to be a whole lot more.
Yet I can't remember what I lost.
Or where it might have gone."

She told me she wasn't fond of artificial light. I told her it was all artificial in the end. Except for those few bright flashes and seemingly random strands. We both knew what we meant. Neither could remember where it was going or where it had been. The images were stronger when we didn't focus them. Time affected the perception of color. The experience was tainted then more than it is now. There was no way we could truly recall exactly the way everything had been or could be.

Maybe we shouldn't have tried.

Once we painted brilliant dreams across the sky because we could. We swore the canvas moved and stole those dreams, but we just never completed the painting. We had ambition and thought we could do it all. We reached too high and stretched ourselves too far. We tried to give more than we were capable of giving and dried ourselves out on the wheel. The world was our oyster. We filled our shiny metal pails with the bounty of the ocean in preparation for a feast to change all things. There was no bridge too far.

Sometimes it is more comfortable not to have options.

I need a bass line here.
Right to the mainline.
I need to feel the blood pumping at full speed like it used to.

Mostly I am this twisted pile of wreckage that still flies for reasons science cannot explain. Science cannot explain anything. It is a crutch for the weak. Those that cannot walk on water or fly with invisible wings like to know the chemical properties of asphalt. The only thing I know is that it hurts more to crash on asphalt than it does in the soft grass of home field advantage.

You know you are on my mind.

This is a love song. To all the girls I've loved before and will love onwards and forever. The true nature of love is that it never dies. When it does you know the veil of illusion has been pulled aside. Love proves itself over eternity. I could hold you in my arms forever, but it wouldn't stop me from being what I truly am. There is no way I can stop moving along the road. If I stop too long I will wither and die. I can't stand still. Neither could you.

Do we know who we are?
Do you know who we used to be?

I trace over every line of your body in my mind. In a way it all becomes the same body, the changing image of the physical side of the love that runs deeper than we are capable of acknowledging. The body is a collection of pieces as much as our soul is a collection of what was what is and what can always be yet to be. They paint the side of the barn. They used to use whitewash but the game plan changed. Now they hide it somewhere amongst the something else. The horses run wild. Even you can't catch them any longer. I've started wiggling my ass when I walk. At this rate I'll be a sixteen year old girl in time for the 2052 World Series.

Not that this really matters.
The nature of things is that we can only randomly predict how they will be.

Our love was once innocent. We could hold it up the the flame of the candle and it would illuminate itself with funny colors. It was innocent because we didn't understand it. It was unfolding itself before our eyes. As each petal opened and fell to the floor we moved a little further apart. That was how we knew it was real. It was too scary to be anything else. I miss you now in ways I never could have missed you then. Our love was once innocent. It has grown into something else.

There are things called stars in the sky...

You were amazing at times I still remember. There were other times in between. You were always amazing, but those eyes that once were bright began to flicker with time. I spend a lot of time flickering myself. I know how it can be to lose the inability to sustain the glow. There are times of darkness and moments of absolute cold terror that strike in that darkness. It is why we keep finding the light again. People like us choose the right moments to close our eyes and leap into the unknown. We know how to pick our battles. We know when our flicker will glow and when it will likely die out. We'll still burn out because we were never meant to fade away. We are legends of a different kind. We stalk every corner of fragmented imagination. And we are failing.