Trailings of Golden Glory
Sitting here, staring at my blurred-doubled reflection on the window - light flared and foreshadowed - feeling as if I've lost myself to some degradation of self and finding only cold blackness separated by an inch of synthesized silicon dioxide polymer-touched machination, I realize that it's not so bad. There's a light on in the house far away - like a star.... It seems appropriate to say I love you.