Oh how, say it, me again, and here. For the ever and away I spell you a finding. To ever, and you, but a stop to this. Never! I love you. Maybe. I can never make what my mind is of. Why try? I pull myself apart, on purpose. Perhaps an ending to this confusion. Perhaps a discovery in the midst of this. Happenstance! What is the end if never the hunt? I beg of thee, as I beg of me. Escape yourself, come into the relics of time and the osculations of such. With me. Of me. And now I must leave. Moonlit soul. I will treasure you as I treasure my own. Mysterious are we, but it to be the fun of existence. Like the ash thrown to the waves, and spread to a nonexistence. You stay, even if invisible. You will always float among the waters of my fragmented subsistence.