In a year or so, abstract paintings of who I used to be will be up on display in my glass house for all to see. It's a place that I call home where I've been throwing stones, to break free
A year or so ago, I was sailing towards the coast in a glass boat. Hoping to find you waiting alone, with your arms stretched wide, so I could sink into your eyes.
So we held hands and walked slowly down the sea towards our glass house on the beach.