Drifter

Words written in the invisible. Words from the void, only seen by no one.

Here we are, together in time. Always repeating, with smile.

A crooked smile among the cypress. He’s waiting there for you, for whatever you may need.

Close your eyes. See the path winding to the inside of no names.

The shapes of shapes to come. Where being late buys you more time. 

The thoughts that the moon thinks when looking down from the vacuum of space upon the light blue. 

A journey in rounds. A journey where everyone has paid their fare. 

This town in the middle of the country only has three and a half attractions. But everyone agrees that they are only here for one thing. The white tea. 

Closed eyes. Tapping toes. Ticking clocks. She is always late, but he waits. He waits for the time to buy the time he truly needs.

Dressed in black with silver accents. He gets ready to face the day. This day. Dressed in black with silver accents. He gets ready to face the day. This day. Dressed in black with silver accents. He gets ready to face the day. This day.

Follow along with this journey. Taking highway vans and well-worn paths. Across shallow lakes and forever beach. Into a metal box under a wooden chair. 

The Pacific Northwest summer can bring more than the heat of the midday sun. Listen and discover how the night holds voices all its own.