Tomorrow will come when I finally implode and become nothing but an empty shell of 'could-haves', 'would-haves', 'maybes' and 'maybe-nots'.

And then, this shell will have finally found a home. But this home will never be good enough for an owner good enough for this home.

I am consumed by my own mind; slave for your mind.

Yet there is no 'today'. I am stuck in an endless loop of nowhere; no-time. And so there will be no tomorrow, let alone the courage to finally pick up the pieces, along with the phone, and try to swallow everything, every word, and spit them chewed and mashed up all together through the air to you. To you; how beautiful it is to have the chance to say them. The thought of being able to dedicate this, to you, as if I already belonged, to you.

Love, along with all the other most important things in life, including life itself, including words, thoughts, poetry, sight, appreciation, gratitude, beauty, especially beauty; love of beauty in life, love - love must not be contaminated by progress. Love can not progress.

Today I am in love with you. Today I am forever trapped in the past. Because of this day, today, that I am in love, the love of your past becomes my future.