I am the tiniest fracture born of sweet laughter.
Where words meet lips, journeying forth, there is a touching. I can hold this bit in my hand and let you see the world.
You ask of me the why, and how. I answer only with a story. Because in the end, perhaps you are right, perhaps a story is the finest accomplishment we have. For then we are not only immortal – we are purpose, we are entertainment, we are alive.
One thought on “Where Words Meet Lips”
Really beautiful, I like this a lot.