We hold hands as we look down at the lights
Our laughter fills the air
We thought we could roam forever
But soon our laughter stopped
and the breeze grew too strong
We lost our bearings, and all that was familiar to us became distant to us.
Our hands became clammy
Now, unattached, we float through life as though lost in a black-hole
The smell of burning trees leading me to you whimsically
A presence I cannot see or (that I) hide if need be
you became an inconvenience
An unwelcome being.
As I touch base, I look up and see you perched on top of a mountain
I call out
Yet you refuse to accept the end of our floating dispositions
Even though we no more hold hands, we still hold the strings to each other’s heart