One felt as if there was an enormous well behind them. Filled up with ages of memory and long, slow, steady thinking; but their surface was sparkling with the present : like sun shimmering on the outer leaves of a vast tree, or on the ripples of a very deep lake. I don't know, but I t felt as if something that grew in the ground""asleep, you might say, or just feeling itself as something between roof-tip and leaf-tip, between deep earth and sky had suddenly waked up, and was considering you with the same slow care that it had given to its own inside affairs for endless years.
There's a sea between us, flowing with love's remorse. There's a bridge between us, built over what we lost. Tied from end to end, from tip to tip, from a place in each of us, that stretches and reaches out. The first few stones splashed by our horrid ways, hoped and prayed for since birth. The waves are pain as we realized what our lives were worth. Our bones grow weak, an island sinking down, but our bridge remains. Our thoughts and hopes, what we wish we could have been, they are the rocks, that keep it alive, and keep me connected to you. You only liked on paper, skyscraper. I'm the one in dire need of a wounded co-conspirer and you're my tyrant.
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