Don't Ask Questions You Don't Want The Answers To

Do you ever wonder where she ends and you begin, there, in the cold, gray kingdom of his memory? Are you separate or distinct? Do your edges blur into each other, masking the points that make you special and unique and her, ironically enough, the same?

Do you see the trajectory of everything already carved through the sky? This is not a new trail you're walking, even though it's the first time your sneakers have been here. The tune he whistles - it's a familiar one, although not to you.

It's go...