falling upward

the recurrence is typical and expected. this time will be different. i won't succumb to the emotion that it wants me to endure. it wants me to be fractional and deficient. it wants me to thirst for what it preaches. two, pair, couple, duo, team. hopelessness sets in when Turan whispers in my ear and fixes my gaze on cupids bow greet a buccaes. the unit of measure is the moments spent trying to harmonize a solo. good enough is the inexorable sound of the void's echo when reaching out to take hold of the one she has molded for me.