1853.

Trying to find new
chambers to carve into the
fired synapses.

1852.

Our bodies meeting
to try and match the machines
of heart's together.

1851.

Memory, the tool
through which knowledge forms its own
chance at making change.

1850.

The dream of love so
often supersedes moody
heart's reality.

1849.

Dull machinations
turn men into monsters with
such disturbing ease.

1848.

Floating stars, cast like
dreams across the sky, fill my
nights with gentle hope.

1847.

For every moment
of feeling, this mosaic
envelops me more.

1846.

Each handshake a soft,
whispered secret, passing thoughts
between palm's imprint.

1845.

The entire world
passes in solitary
blinks. Always lonely.

1844.

Her backbone, long used
as ambition's ladder, broke
its spine by bending.

1843.

A thick slate hued sky
overhangs the entire
day in foreshadow.

1842.

Her voice breaks a heart
through token protestations
of what love won't be.

1841.

The dark sings gentle
lullabies into the light
glow, down from the moon.

1840.

Afterwards, I would
swear that innocence had
worn him like mirrors.