I am thinking of a new song, one the slides down through passing chords, as water over the rocks of time. There are images pressing upon my mind, the feeling of it expanding within my body as if form were not an obstacle. I am struck by the image of Arwen, of twilight and the evening star falling, falling. As the day envelopes the lingering notes of night's reverie, that ethereal feeling, tendrils of connection, seem to snap back into the body, evaporating like morning mist. So I write, to preserve what is left, to let these shadowy forms take shape. 

There is this feeling, that sits coiled within my body. A silver thread passing through time and space, between you and me. That connects our diaphanous breath, shared from afar. The phantom of your presence is a limb missing, still felt but gone. It is the twilight we share, as the hills of your body lie like shadows within my heart. I chime, vibrating as a synchronous string, ringing out into the folds within the universe. I write as if the words could take form and fill the emptiness your absence leaves.



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