quicksand beaten.

you rest for inspiration and find it falls quite short. you've built lies upon sand.

it's amazing to see you stand there and expect it all to remain. i can point and call the names, but i'm standing next to you, marvelling at its staying power.

tourists will wait for hours, curling up and around the gates to oooh and aaah over this fortress you've erected.

i see your hands fumbling with the air, over excited over something, confused in their own tips and skin. i see this and i've got to give in.