Time doesn't matter as long as you keep it locked up in your brain. Two years or a minute are the same, they can crush your teeth or lift you at once. You always end up in pieces or with your feet above the clouds anyways. You start placing the same perfect silouhette everywhere. You start building the core of a world of changing faces.
It's been so long you say, so long. Since we ran around barefeet on summer grass. Since our knees were blue and our smiles crooked. It's been such a long time since our fears smiled at us. Since we stopped checking under the bed, and started checking inside.
We lived through captains, admirals and starship revivals in the blink of an eye. Dreams never asked for forgiveness, and every end was as open as the sea. Fears weren't for the living but for the ghosts in the trees. The end was as faraway as the horyzon in the space you could measure with words.
Some eyes are home, there are some eyes you can't help going back to, every floating second. Some eyes you find even though you're days apart. Some eyes always offer the same shade in the same shape, when the sun gets too high. Some eyes are there so you can close them and see.
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