Thanks for the music and the airplanes.

What are you but a swell, a tide, a moment that comes and goes with the moon light?

Why are you but my smile, a chance to be, a reason for the stars in the sky.

There is a god in heaven, this I believe, but I held you in my arms until that moment left me.

There is air to breath, it sustains me, a breath's bread and water missing your sent.

What is life but a moment, a second, ever reducing, 

subtracting, fracturing

dividing the instant that now is, from no hope of redemption

a subtraction from the day that I selflessly left you.

Why is now--this instant, when never is so far with you always in it.

Well, thank god for memory.

History