Girl on a bike on a summer's night. Her boy rides behind as the wind beats on his brain. We talk about philosophy and dream about heaven. I recall telling him about Moses and the burning bush as the sky falls heavy and November passes. Winds high above us make the sounds of the oceans. Nothing calming, its as if the ocean is building up and the waves of blue water crash down all around us. Every seemingly meaningless thing has meaning again; And I am third.
"Your hand, my hand, fits so easily. Walk close beside me, I am a capsule of energy.
You speak softly, We are capsules of energy."