Writing, looking for answers;

Unfolding layers, releasing emotions.

Scrolling across bits of paper, a vision, a mission;

A dance with mortality.

A mirror of reality, a choice, a voice, a second skin.

A conception, a intervention, a condition of percpetion.

Writing, searching, finding a answer.

Painting with words, with my soul as a dancer.

Who will read?

Endless puzzles, sensations and revelations all in context.

Words are not complex, the story is.

How is this?

Because you are looking in.

I am a window, the glass has two sides,

Looking in as your looking out, forward and rewind.

As the writing fills

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