SweetBlueSoul

Sian I wake up to the sun on my face, and an empty bed. I can smell cigarette smoke and hear distant traffic; the balcony doors must be open. Smiling a little, I get one of Xander's t-shirts and pull it over my head, deciding I don't care who sees me outside. He owes me a cuddle. Xander Morning has finally arrived. I'm outside on the balcony having another smoke, still in my jeans from the night before, watching two kids run around the flat in the building opposite. The sun has just gone high enough to shine on my chest and I even chuckle gruffly at myself; I must look a state. At least my hangover hasn't kicked in yet. "You've been up a

In some places the city is still dirty, Even after rain.

There is a rush, a whirl, one in, one out... I dream Our noses are nearly touching an invisible pane of glass Misting the ghosts of droplets and handprints back to aspect Handprints of the millions who have been here before us. We're not exclusive, Just lucky. I cannot tell whether I exist, or, If I am only part of the colour you breathe. As the longest, smoothest, most precious sigh Echoes up from my heart to my head I am only colour Your face zooms out until you are only a star A mere point of wondrous light Hanging Floating In the dark.

I apologise for being finally out of good words. Maybe everything I've said about you is cliched But please believe me when I tell you that Every look, Every breath, Every inked letter And every word Is true.

Everyone encounters it. Some merely see it Others saturate themselves with it. Some hear it coming, For others it comes out of smoke. People change under it Although they may question it. But you always remember it Even if you want to forget. You can't undo it Only shape it. Young ones bumble through it The elder ones plan it. But whatever your circumstance Nobody can define it.