Work Text:
Always is valueless.
Even as you try to pursue it, and God forgive you, because you do, you lose sense of it. You lose yourself in the years you’re waiting on the shore of a lake whose grass soon dries up, whose water soon disappears. You lose yourself in the breath of a ghost’s hand upon the back of your neck and unlearn what a real touch feels like. The night’s dark speaks to you, the day’s sun has silenced.
Always becomes valueless as you forget whom the ghost footsteps beside your own belong to, 591,665 days into the abyss.