life, overflowing... without a source or echo...

does life matter?

what would that mean?

does love matter?

what would that mean?

is life meaningless?

what would that mean?

what is real?

what is unreal?

what is?

what is not?

am I?

am I not?

....all questions are more words, like stars strewn across the sky, visible at night, and not in the day, but we can feel their brilliance,

...or is it ours?

I am this feeling of aliveness, that without words is not,

...without words I am not...

such beauty in not knowing what beauty is,

such overwhelming love in not knowing what love is...

life, overflowing...

without a source or echo...

life, overflowing...

without a source or echo...