The last minute tickets, the mad four hour drive, my car stalling in the middle of Chicago traffic, the wait in the rain, the new friends, the burning in my screaming lungs, the lull only days after, the jazz riff in my heart as I find a photo of him looking right through me.
sleepless summer
windmills
churn the fog
Yay Words! 
Fly.
Haha. Thanks, Isaac!
Awesome.
Had a dream kind-a like that!