501.

A room of hollow
ears and empty hearts, cast in
bare abandonment.

500.

Left directionless
with this solipsistic heart
as a reference.

499.

The brain, a one man
construction project, with the
body its victim.

498.

The sea is tinted
in silvered shadows, peeking
out from waves below.

497.

A silhouette, left
as the only evidence
of what once remained.

496.

His heart an exact
match, as vague and restless with
deep wanting as mine.

495.

The prettiness of
dusk, hung in the arms of
a cold autumn mist.