Prose & Apathy

Found cups of nostalgia and drank it in, drank it in like flowered teas. Watched the aromas and fume rise as it simmered, trellises of thoughts disappearing into clouds. My inner conversations blooming like mystic mirrors, past murmurs of celestial comprehensions. I swam, you sank, we dive, and drove. In the end, found signs back to the junction of our deepest secrets.