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Abstract
expectation, light that once hid from itself hides no longer. Time spent chasing down that long forgotten entity is no other. For the sands have counted themselves and we cannot compete, the dream that a lover dreamt.</p><figure id="8f55"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*jh4PHKd88_stMt7Odg_VBQ.jpe
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g"><figcaption>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@jplenio?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Johannes Plenio</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/dream?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></figcaption></figure></article></body>
A slight wrinkle of face for a few seconds, loped up within the rest of them, we wait. For the tides set by the moon, encouraged by the stars we continue. The faces of days gone by fade within the folds of expectation, light that once hid from itself hides no longer. Time spent chasing down that long forgotten entity is no other. For the sands have counted themselves and we cannot compete, the dream that a lover dreamt.
