Have trembled beneath the pressure of a light beam.
Allow the light to fall across you. Shadow or sunlight. Allow it to define your shape. In its way. Another day it may be different. It surely will be. Are we ever the same? Is the light? And the way a form presses into the grass?
Count the times. The number of times you have seen the silence of another world seep though a crack. The number of times you have heard the sea trying to escape from the blue painted wall.
