I hope my voice can find you down this one-way street. Typical is traffic choking a metropolis coiling around its runner’s legs. Atypically, dwells a love story in the spaces of noisy lives. You didn’t ever believe in pressing questions; answers met their match. That which is unimportant should never have importance bestowed upon it. I am the person that made them but you forgave mistakes. I could/would have listened forever as you spewed mirth-provoking words. Brazen in your shyness, you spilled light into happenstances and coincidences. You challenged the world, you often said ‘if imitation isn’t flattery…’. I didn’t know that last precious day the hourglass was inverted. If you’re reading this, please insert your comment and/or comments.
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