They shove germs in their mouths. They disappear as if not really there. People that come and go. Days that drift away like faces in a crowd of neon ghosts. Exoskeletons. Dreams of a life. Every eye that meets your own. Every gaze that cuts through disdain. A smile to warm even the most deadest of bones. Shovelling ashes and kissing burned asphalt. Pucker up. Settle down. Lose yourself in a moment of madness. Spread it wide like a lover. Swallow smoke and mirrors. In the time it takes for a heart to break, the universe has already collapsed. Light years on the nape of your neck. Shooting stars and wanderlust as we celebrate all that has ever been lost. Things that burn in the fire. Things never to be recovered. Praise each second. Love all that gets within the shell of what contains you. This cold abyss. This never ending story. Tears and fears. Champagne for all those who ever meant a thing. Pain for the rest. Glory on the crest of a wave. Not drowning nor waving. Just surfing. Being something and someone that goes beyond. The great big unknown, from my mouth to yours. With the falling of snow, all we can do is dance like angels. We leave traces of existence. We breathe not because we have to, but because we want to. We do it through the need to be open. Through the need to become what we hold somewhere deep within.