that we could walk hand in hand down a road that neither takes us home nor ends nor makes us tired to continue that the significance of it i mean to say hits me freshly each time it dissipates like breath freed from a pried sarcophagus or the slipped refrain of an air caught in a bar or on a bus or in a bookshop behind the stacks of ya & *sf * is a possibility which leaves me both terrified & elated replacing face after face until everyone’s face is yours