how can i even think of it? It is not an easy thing to do. running away.forgetting the past. it all glides so smoothly through the fingers. like a silken piece of evidence a splatter of milky white across the blue ocean like a vice around the throat of man curling,choking,strangling.dead roots of innocence now corrupt. a wall of shadows passing by the ancient bells of sorrow indifferent pain.to any fruit. this is..not..how..it is..