There are moments in time, places that have come and gone. We see things with limited scope, and experience the world around with the smallest of spans. Waking and sleeping, living and dying. There is nothing so fragile as the time we breathe.

It is all like an ocean; the passing of tides, a revolution of one great current. Water, water and more endless streams of water. In the air, on the ground, captivated by gravity. The Detritus of our imaginations.

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