i remember the sound you make when you sneeze.

Being here, up in this height has only the effect of making me see the reality of distance, that even vision is not enough to take it all in. I have to close my eyes in that moment when sight fails and in that space where I am blind I see the vastness of that distance; cloudless, clear and laserburned with your image.

Then, everywhere, daisies and there's a haze in the horizon where the clouds don't quite reach, like a sort of boundary between the clouds and the pureness of the grey sky at the moment.

I am closest to the sky in this place right now, where the very air is thinnest and where clouds are only cold breaths and moisture, and like this cloud crawling along this mountain, I also seek your warmth. I am also now farthest from you in this lifetime.

An irony in itself as we are closer than before, oh far away so close and when after this time we'll never be alone again; only lonely and divvying up the pain between us.

I breathe again and see it turn to a miniature cloud dissipating faster than cigarette smoke.

But as you said, believe. So then I will believe and also dream at the same time, for that time we believe will come.

and everytime she sneezes, I believe it's love. - A. Duritz