Thinking about certain things.

I'm wrapped in cold air,
free floating,
arms wide
in a three dimensional
empty savannah
of soft, stunning blue,
held intact and perfect
by a glass shell,
a numerical sphere
as thin as a moment.
Drifting
enclosed, in an endless
rain of tears,
covering,
distorting
and so,
defining.
I look out to my past,
I am pierced everytime
by the flattened, moving fluid
dancing it's memories.
You look in to me
and your gaze is carved
long before it arrives.