Absolutely Miles Away …too many clouds, too little time…

shoreside, two

amidst another bed of pummelled shells
the hours passed as grains and sands before
simply slipped; there was no grip to the past.
send your thoughts by wavelicked surf on shore.

must we always find our thoughts entwined at the point where whisps of being converge?

[

don’t leave.

i sense you like it there.

breathe.

purge.

]

That actually sounds like quite a lovely place for thoughts to entwine.

So, I like this place of convergence… ;)

Oh, did “axe” get axed?

always at the whisps. why, why, why?

Bohemienne : sometimes it can be rather nice, sometimes not…sadly, tis the price that must be paid…

Andophiroxia: ah, then do stay!

Doobrie : Um, perhaps! Er. Maybe!

Lillipilli : oh, um, well, they’re sort of…whispy. they are neither here. nor there. sort of in between everywhere. that’s where i hide.