To cater you evermore I’ve laid this path: a perfection of choice pre-destined- your fate playing backwards. I am following along; holding my breath as rivers crash into days, as the road consumes all that we’ve built. In the end, the path drains further a bitter scene. Such is the destination when one decides all – when one sees farther than the other; it is always a somber view: disheartening, disengaging, disenchanted. We are both left circling around confused in the last moment. But I twirl further, faster – deeper, right into your black spots; i dig trenches there, forever.