256.

All the cars from a
distance look like so many
scurrying ants. So

tiny and busy,
a microcosm of life
in an empty chase.

255.

The sky and sea, such
paired, sad overtures of the
finite ground between.

254.

The sun offering
a fading wave as the light
dissipates slowly.

253.

The town recedes in
the distance as the water
lengthens ever on.

252.

Settling anchors
in my throat, who's angles stab
me, all in your name.

251.

Choking stunted peace
from the empty bottoms of
all our ready pills.

250.

Here beauty hides so
mischievously in the dark
corners of ugly.

249.

Winter skies chase the
ground in gentle cloud's playful
embrace, just trailing.

248.

Emotions crowd for
space on love's faded lawn. So
much weary refuse.

247.

Torn fragments of our
shattered past, litter the hearts
of lost memories.

246.

As the girl crawls in
a rush over, shuffling and
contorting, until

he's safely ensconced
in her bottles. Then they are
all thrown, together,

out to the sea. Where
the waves embrace their faces
and make them rattle.

245.

Until finally
Tom Waits enters the stage from
the left. A mute and

paralyzed witness
to beautiful emotion's
tragedy seen here.

244.

Through black and white blinks,
each picture rolls together
and apart, while the

music is formed back
with original siblings,
their black eyes staring

upwards, emptily
at the ceiling, seeing what
it is they have wrought.

243.

From the violin,
the bottles, and back to the
piano. Repeat.