dust lingers for a moment in the eminence of air, barely floating, as it glides along the breath of the unspoken and the broken, unaware of motions charted by emotion 'long the sea on which it floats until it settles, quite inevitably, on your frame of bones within my frame of frozen time, blurring, deceitfully, your golden edges and waxing poetic all the days in which i craved you, days in which i craved to die. i've come to realize that we're all made of dust. dusk to dusk, you and i float beneath the dying sun.