I set out on a journey to find a key to unlock a bag of truths. I climbed every world, every surface, every cloud but soon forgot who I was and ran around in circles until I fell from my dreams and swam with the fish in the sea of the sun.
Everywhere I look, colossal worlds scratch the surface of space, their massive hands reaching upward, trying to pluck the stars from the illuminated night sky. The vivid stars playfully flit about like the first butterflies of spring, traunting and dodging the avaricious hands the reach always for their wings.
All is warmed as the wind below the sky lazily slumbers in the warm summer air. The soft dirt buries itself deep beneath the surface of the earth, its shy eyes hidden behind the lush grass that dons every facet trampled by human feet.
Time has been left in the past and the numbers have fallen from the faces of the clocks; their is nothing left to steal the years. The days that pass explode into a million seeds that fall to the earth and ripen into all that surrounds us, heartbeats resonating in our ears.
At night, the gardens become the roadways to our hearts, the maps of our eyes, and the unopened book of our dreams. But come morning all our stories hide beneath the streets we walk, disappear inside the vaults we've lost , and die within the sculptures we've become.
The phantoms never seen construct the walls of the world with the words from our lips, and paint them with the photos of a thousand vacant faces.
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