Along the path where the stream is talking. I breath the mist and continue walking. The wood it whispers in a language of it's own. As a sigh escaped my lips I feel the light caress my fingertips that steal away the breath and leave me on my own, waiting by the stairs. Waiting. I despair. Do I hear the hollow sound, footsteps resounding on this frozen ground, or the familiar disappointment of the echos of my own? Somehow I ended up here in between, where there is always the comfort of knowing I'll never be seen when I fall. I wait for just one touch... and I fall... Weightless. Endless. Faithless. I'll adore you. A single touch before I fade. Painless let me pass through.
