On the eve of normalcy and stalemate we grab our shopping bags and put price tags on daylight, walk through the shadows, and sing songs of hope, love our companions with soul, skin, and bone. Mobilize. Forget about the edge. You can strategize but eyes can't stretch through time. And plans break like branches, like doors open wide. Like pupils in twilight begging for some light. Flavors come and go with the wind, but the memory remains like the taste is a stain. So why complain about being awake? If it tastes bad then spit it out!