Landscape June 21, 2014 11:06:56 AM – 11:08:24 AM

Who was it that wrote:

Back in the past in loneliness I stretched out every sentence so it could slide across the weeks. In every day, remnants of meaning slid along with me. You listened to my fierce heart, every word a sun that cannot burn.

I try to draw your shining eyes in my sentences. What does it want, the loss of meaning, in these otherwise so staggeringly beautiful meanings.