flashes backwards into times when there were trees around, and roads ahead, and the sea sprawling at our wheels, turning turning running circles in infinite loops. all infinity, everything comes round to the same scenes that i love; inbetween, the same images of outstretched praying hands, each of us oblivious of one another as all blows up in smoke. pictures no one sees, and words that no one needs, words that are never enough. the seeds sit deep within the overloaded stomach, it's digging and digging, and ins and outs and flooding with booze, until 5am mind cuddles and shy piano music bring the fragile blossoms out into the cold breeze. a snapshot, then turning around and spinning some more; all infinity.

in the distance: home