Nothing causes me to fly as much as the thought of enveloping her in a tight embrace submerged beneath winter's gaze, and drowning under the summer's heatwaves. My eyes are hostages to the darkness unless she paints upon the canvas of my life once again. Each morning I see her hands grace across the spacious skies bringing in the beautiful dawn.  I am empty and filled with the bulletholes of tomorrow's expectations as I attempt to ascertain what lies beneath these vain happenings.