gone

Its funny when you draw a lot, how you detach yourself from the world in a sense. I look at you and I see though your threads of nerves, I see your bones. When you cry I watch the lines and follow the texture of your skin. Even your thoughts gets shapes, memories play out before me and exist right there beside us. The scene that we are in, is just another one of those memories. I smile and add something that might define that scene for you, that will make you never forget. This might be the start of the scene. This might be something that when you hear that word, this conversation will revisit you time and again. It means nothing to me. It’s already in the blur of thousand strings of light that cast no shadows. I met you, you left, I smile and another face comes around. I will meet a thousand others, words will be spoken and imprinted and then there will be emptiness again.