[sub]Across Let me propose a deal across the veil. I can’t say that I wish to call you back, my stomach wracked with knots, your stomach wracked with pain, but there’s something left to be gained, generation-proofed, cardboard-sealed so I can see the years beyond memory and the puncture of a compass. Let’s trade. Time can be undone, rent asunder like the circles I once knew. In lieu of words, there is blood, and we would sign a contract in duplicate, your time for mine, neither being on the other’s side but circumstance protects that which it has claimed. Words that you disowned: Could. Would. Should. We have signed together in our blood, and those words need not apply.[/sub] [right]19/7/16[/right]