Where once we traded breaths was filed the spread sheets cleaned and catalogued, these digits touching on a tonguetip rest remembered smiles but where the smiles were placed were lost in an accountance, of a sense.
Excuse me if this still needs some work. Still have the dreaded flu, and my addled brain at this time thought it was quite good.
The rhythm of this is very intriguing Silas. I like the alternating long and short lines. To be honest I don't have a clue as to what it's about. Nor am I sure it's grammatically correct. But I do like the sound of it.
As sad as it is succinct - and vice versa!
Oh I think I understand it now.