When the light spreads into darkness, or when the earth crumbles beneath our beings, when nothing works and all else fails and the only person standing there is you, with your heart hanging loosely on your sleeve, standing on waves ends, ankles wrapped around waterfalls with nothing but a toothy grin and open hands and your own cup of reality, ready to pour above my head just before I get too deep, the sun would split life and death into two and I would be stuck with a name. There won’t be a You or Me. Or an Everyone In Between. And we won’t live hands-tied-to-hands-with-burnt-cigarettes together.
Because there’s only You and Me when darkness has overcome light.
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