finally a halt, after mad, noisy rushes watching learners cross pens and lips in an attempt to pull something pretty out of the world in passing. your desert boots are not made for kicking anyone, so you climb up walls instead, and split them open to let in the autumn air and dead leaves. cover yourself in them, and let the music wash over you, the music you don't hear but feel for the spaces it creates, spaces you can breathe in. your eyes blinded by two cigarette butts from that night you shouted out your darkness into the sky but the wind kept throwing it back at you. it's fine now; time to take every spark in the spaces between us as just what it is, & revel in it, with a mind ready to explode in a friendly flare you send into the world for someone to wish upon