From skinny platform intimate air compresses and releases light butterflies. White as autumn,
shell of millions, dies as it lives with the sky. No morning can embrace his bed rest, shines too
and so it goes, another day without unfolds. Greater the mind, silent prophecies that no one speaks
hears him, and smiling within, tolerance to the world. Night or day all the same for the feet not
touch the ground, there will be a time for that. Becoming, stranger than it seems as the world
changes two emerge. No brighten lights but all has it's own light. Multiplication, and all that speaks
quietly and simple divides and divides. One and the world, the world for one of millions and
millions of ones.