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...ing. A single man limps to us, no eyes has he but oh he has seen everything. His mouth sewn shut, but he has said it all. Patches of color soar, stitched together by lost souls. From the tears of the man a book grows. Vines twist together to create it, paper burns into existence. The book floats in front of me, screaming to be open. My hands stretch and as I grip the book a shock of intensity flies threw my veins. I open the book as the pages flip on their own. Each page blank and as pail as the dead.

I turn to her, our eyes click. Our souls connect. As our skin trembles and our hair stands on end. Our eyes close, our view changes. There and then we kiss, from the single act our hearts clearly entwine. From there as we cant see but the book dissolves. From the dust there is left only one page, left from the thousands. On it reads at the top three mystical words. No fancy text, no big letters, no secret meaning. . .just the words “I Love You”.

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