Noah

The Emotion

I am seemingly without the creasing that pins me together to negate my falling apart.

 

Swaying is the motion of the days being plucked from the canyon in my mind. An absence of unity I name the Great Divide.

 

My pores grow strands of light to the touch and sight ensuring this process is perpetual in its simplicity.

 

In tune with the Vibration

The Sound

The Music

The Performance

The Beauty

The Experience

The Destination

The Echo