(no subject)
PART ONE: in which we spill and not make a mess
PART TWO: in which we close the gap
PART THREE: in which we get what we came for
PART FOUR: in which we fight for complete understanding
PART FIVE: in which we come back, now, always
PART SIX: in which we are topographers
PART SEVEN: in which outside and inside complement each other
PART EIGHT: in which we look with our eyes closed
PART NINE: in which we secretly read poetry during coffee breaks
PART TEN: in which fairytales blossom
PART ELEVEN: in which we become giants, our own
PART TWELVE: in which we whisper, "tell me we'll never get used to it."
PART THIRTEEN: in which we stop throwing the same punches
PART FOURTEEN: in which harmony revives
PART FIFTEEN: in which we look for a way in
PART SIXTEEN: in which a grain of sand is the world and the salt its lover
PART SEVENTEEN: in which we peel the thcik skin from the orange and divide the fruit into quarters with our fingers
PART EIGHTEEN: in which we must say everything twice
PART NINETEEN: in which it is too early to be looking back
PART TWENTY: in which you are sweet and sour semantics and bittersweet punctuation
PART TWENTY ONE: in which "the apparition of these faces in the crowd; petals on a wet, black bough"
PART TWENTY TWO: in which something inside you goes to sleep, back against the wall and fingers curled under its chin
PART TWENTY THREE: in which I hold your words next to me, only because I don't have you
PART TWENTY FOUR: in which we learn to duck
PART TWENTY FIVE: in which the number of people who are older than you grows smaller
PART TWENTY SIX: in which we just do
PART TWENTY SEVEN: in which we cut with blunt scissors on a dotted line
PART TWENTY EIGHT: in which there is always time for passion
PART TWENTY NINE: in which we resist, just as hard as we take
PART THIRTY: in which there are no answers, only questions.
(tell me more parts, the next part)
PART TWO: in which we close the gap
PART THREE: in which we get what we came for
PART FOUR: in which we fight for complete understanding
PART FIVE: in which we come back, now, always
PART SIX: in which we are topographers
PART SEVEN: in which outside and inside complement each other
PART EIGHT: in which we look with our eyes closed
PART NINE: in which we secretly read poetry during coffee breaks
PART TEN: in which fairytales blossom
PART ELEVEN: in which we become giants, our own
PART TWELVE: in which we whisper, "tell me we'll never get used to it."
PART THIRTEEN: in which we stop throwing the same punches
PART FOURTEEN: in which harmony revives
PART FIFTEEN: in which we look for a way in
PART SIXTEEN: in which a grain of sand is the world and the salt its lover
PART SEVENTEEN: in which we peel the thcik skin from the orange and divide the fruit into quarters with our fingers
PART EIGHTEEN: in which we must say everything twice
PART NINETEEN: in which it is too early to be looking back
PART TWENTY: in which you are sweet and sour semantics and bittersweet punctuation
PART TWENTY ONE: in which "the apparition of these faces in the crowd; petals on a wet, black bough"
PART TWENTY TWO: in which something inside you goes to sleep, back against the wall and fingers curled under its chin
PART TWENTY THREE: in which I hold your words next to me, only because I don't have you
PART TWENTY FOUR: in which we learn to duck
PART TWENTY FIVE: in which the number of people who are older than you grows smaller
PART TWENTY SIX: in which we just do
PART TWENTY SEVEN: in which we cut with blunt scissors on a dotted line
PART TWENTY EIGHT: in which there is always time for passion
PART TWENTY NINE: in which we resist, just as hard as we take
PART THIRTY: in which there are no answers, only questions.
(tell me more parts, the next part)