It's where your heart goes, when you're done.
All of my words have had the same meaning for the past couple of weeks as the ocean whispers of the surrounding scenery Isn’t it beautiful? But sitting on the sand dunes isn’t bringing the same magnificence nor is the Spanish moss that reaches out to me as if I have seen this before and I have and will continue to I see because the temperature still isn’t changing and maybe I miss the increase decrease of the whole past because I can’t find anything anymore. Yet there are landscapes near that I haven’t yet traveled but I won’t be living there it can only be trips and never staying. So will the wind blow another way because it hasn’t led me to any sort of home since I left and maybe eighteen leaves me in naive woes but I still can only find home in her and not in geography no matter how many times I may spin the globe it just goes round and round and
