#072 Cyrus' Chess

My spaces between words, silence spoken, tones unheard,

I blame myself for our dynamatic dynamic. Sometimes, I wonder whether I wanted to test how far you could bend or how long it would take you to break.

With our contrasts constantly coiling, catching you would end in disaster. But oh, how I miss the chase.

The fact remains, you are and will always be the oil spill that keeps my passion aflame. I would set the world on fire for you. If you are ready, I would love to reignite that flame.

Goodbye from your old life, 

your old light.