Fires have cooled down, the smoldering is no more. And the look I shared, was worthless, imaginary. But what is man without imagination, without dreams? Empty. That's what.
So out goes my soul again, wandering, calling, searching for it's mate and my mind too, wonders whether when the time comes, it will allow me to do what ordinary humans do; let the bloody guy in, figuratively speaking that is. There's a certain level of intimacy that one allows themselves to reach. That is the level I'm not sure I even want to reach. Oh well, here goes the long, long spell of patience that I must endure.
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