Storyline context:
Some changes occur in people in such seemingly small and insignificant ways that they are barely perceptible to those around them.  Entire lives are lived inside dreams and desires that never see the light of day.  They grow stronger in silence and frustration little by little year after year until the dreamer is encased in a chrysalis of distance, detachment and desperation.  They become a metamorph…waiting for something…waiting to emerge.

As faces age with time and desperation
Voices crystalize
Into the chemistry of a memory that comforts me
In the waning hours as I descend

Everyday…slipping away
Spinning the silk of my own cocoon on a distant moon
Severing ties with painful goodbyes
It’s no surprise that I would choose solitude

So I guess, at best, I’m blessed with a blindness
That keeps me synchronized
With the chemistry of the memories that come to me
Sealed inside my satellite

My words rise like a fever in the thinning air
And collect themselves in darker corners
Saying nothing…and getting me nowhere

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