You stick your hand out the window
of a moving car, and the breeze blows against your palm. You move it every direction you can think of, and drink in the sensation on your skin.
We are reminded that we will grow one day, big and strong and as impervious as stone castles; metaphorical motes, with figurative crocodiles and proverbial bridges we will build to let the selective few across and into a safe haven of who we are now. Tonight, we are just flesh and bone disasters, crashing into one another. Honest in complexities, untamed by responsibilities. Like dry sticks brought together, we're attempting to start a fire that will make stone castles useless, inevitably. You can't burn stone, but you can set ablaze what lives inside it. Hoping that the wind carries.
You stick your hand out the window of a moving car and the breeze blows against your palm.
You move it in every direction you can think of, and drink in the sensation on your skin.
No night will feel like tonight ever again,
but you can always dare to dream bigger than stone can be built.