You wrote a sentence on my skin to help me look through your eyes. In the fog, not quite being able to see the road, see the path. The spaces of words are undoubtedly what is most important. The wall around the words. Later, one of the following nights, as we followed each other down through each our idea of it, I could no longer hide the words, the sentences, the images. Sun storm. Then the day slowly closed in on our eyes. As I lay there and listened, I became afraid of losing you. This is how you answered.