Edge, that neat cut out edge, can you see it?
That will be you and this will be me.

That silent thunder and this thunderous silence.
That gush from outside and this gush from within.
That loss in gain and this gain in loss.
Oh that will be you and this will be me.

Wine, applause, accomplishment, celebration in unanimity.
Yet, connection only to further disconnection.
That same run but with those lost bigger ends.

Converted and well recognized.
Converted and happily united.
And once converted, never the same.
But converted and always misty.

Packaged and sold.
Replaced and sold.
Sold. Sold. Sold.

The slow prepared madness of the artificial dream.
The pervasive drive of a hidden real dream.

The need, the want.
The large, the enough.
The plenty, the required.

The yours, The mine.
The mine, The yours?