to have written on ink and paper a voyage composed of kids. hearts and minds rushing together with the comets as time chases their tails. with gold coins clanging upon each twists that one can make. grins that disappear over the boundless horizon against all that could fail. hearing laughter reverberate through translucent figures above. of green and ripe, sadness despite. they won’t stop, they can’t help it. hurry. you might miss them.
however, wouldn’t it be an understatement if the words that are printed on these pieces of papers would not justify the moment that has once been?
that each drop of tear– would not suffice for the ones that have been shed
that diluted pupils of disbelief — were mere figments of imagination
that footsteps inching closer– would not have been marked
that those hesitations– would not even have existed
that each resonance of laughter noted- would not be sufficient with all that one can hear in that moment.
that rush of feeling one gets when she smiles– disintigrates into dusts that never made significance.
that one would get to overlook a tiny hand gesture that led to this moment.
truth be told again and again, we are made of flaws.
also, a moment’s lifespan is within a moment.
it’s already in a book.
one that is called life.
but if science figures out a way to transfer the memories we have into a usb or something, i wouldn’t mind that. not one bit. fond of it even.
i’m messed up. hey, i’m not the only one.