Thoughtheart

Suzanna wrote this for me:

tick goes the sweeper round the marked field
each stroke, a breath taken to recoil
the cog
the beat is a constant through the graduation
of the day
only his thoughts are the catalyst to
the drive within

----

And I replied with this:

holding a landscape in the palm of her hand, a fleeting glimpse becomes a permanent state, a sun appears on either side as the light attaches itself to her body, she looks onto a rose-tinted day, a thought starts a dance and an eye sees a bridge over a river called forever.

----

I will miss her. :(