The Crimson Slit.

Tuesday, August 04, 2015,

We gaze at the same sky, but our suns set differently.
Yours shows a deep crimson slit across a blue plain and mine lurk in the shadows of grey. Your clouds are heavy with belief and mine are wild with bliss. Your sun sets but my ground shifts from beneath me instead.

You choose for your sun to set because you have something to stand for; something to stay still for.
And I let my Earth slide because when something sets, it marks. But I need not to mark, for when something marks, it stays. I need to move.

I like to move.
I like to question,
and I like to seek.

I'll let my sun stay,
I'll cure my lust of wander instead.