All the words rotate clockwise, keeping time with the music that you play...open my pores...released once more...ingratiatingly complying with the echos of all this time, intertwined. And our growth is seldom defined by physical terms...expressions unearthed from beneath every vestige of protective mechanisms that we have designed now lay bare, naked, to express the reaons of care...more than hope is this longing to become more than we are, creating nuances of style and color and flavor and light...the touch is more tactile, freshened, renewed...gracing awareness with surety, climbing yet another crest; too involved to speak, feeling remains paramount to this quest that is our love...