JOSIAH BERLIAN

To the Moon

If you’re patient enough to read this stuff, you’ll be getting the unfiltered works. The silent melody of hope, lurking in shades of black and white.

And boy do I hope that you catch my drift.

Click.

And what is more beautiful than time, south of space and west of your heart?

Loop.

What comes after the ineffable flow of heart?

Fear.

There it sits, a globe, an orb. It glows in the dark, a questioning glow that looks harmless yet sinister…

Choice.

A wisp of the future, a scent from memory, a shadow on the wall.

Converge

Hands held. Worlds apart.

Reality.

It was never the answer.