Scouring the far ends of bytes. Searching.
I know what I'm reaching for.
I won't find you here.
Volatile.
Will I be of any value the next time you search my gaze?
Crisp, clean, soft, all up in your head, contrasting.
I pale. And faint. In comparison.
All my on-stage sparkle wouldn't hold up.
Against your Image. In high definition.
Where did you find such stats for your life?
Don't worry, your socks will answer that.