Terse grins bear stained teeth in amused scorn. Keyholes stretch like provocative lips. The stairs disappear in intensifying degrees of blackness. Beyond the walls, traffic is muted and distant. Then the unspoken answer draws you closer to the door.
Abstract hands whirl around measuring the pointlessness of time.
Irrelevancy blooms gold and fragile under an ethereal summer storm. Mountain peaks, valley floors, birth, death and a moment's lethal contrition on an empty train platform. It's all there as your hand brushes the door. Truly, it is the inherited legacy of rational political man to know who waits with infinite patience and a warm embrace beyond the door. Nothing random or unexplained sends that prickling itch racing across your scalp.