the generous winds and currents of the days, ruffling our insides as much as our hair. we fly, we fly, until we land, and even then the scent of soaring tickles our nose. and how will we ever exist in future land without this simple and deep knowing? in the deep silence and dark in the night. i thought of the jungle of smoke debris left by the brightness and lure of our fireworks. i think we are both of those. the flashes of light and the dull but still glowing aftermath. im fine with that.