Loose-leaf pages quaver on the fertile orchard tree, upsprouting from the sockets that had held the autumn leaves.
Pages freely posturing for passing eyes to see, the solemn feelings that had neatly wrote a diary.
You wouldn't mind if i stopped by and plucked a page to read, since afterall they're floating nigh, my hands won't shop with greed.. Would you be so unsettled if i've seen you write my name, if i confessed so bluntly that i write of you the same?.. I read the passage where you cryed for wings to help you fly, so you could soar to reach that lonely star up in your sky. That yonder place, so far away, you dreamed to run-off to... what if i said sincerely that my heart had dreamt there too?.. I wander through the writings of the girl who lives next door, decoding hallowed scriptures that i'd never seen before. Skimming branch to branch within her sacred blossomed tree,, while in the shadows of my own she sits and reads of me