Harmonized, the three began to climb the notes of their song. The choreography of the woods was their inspiration as they themselves went round. Ever faster, the three went on and up, high but with lows. A gesture designed to show. They were there not to perform, instead, to partake. Absorption conceded, they had tired of keystrokes and loaded questions poised by greed. It was the worlds turn to say something and theirs to respond. And so their irresistible dimples remained as inspirational shivers translated into movement in their arms and legs. They were able to forget the two toned dichotomy that argues with itself in more sane moments. Although not free, they at least had each other to forget that with. It was an homage to their absence, a time before themselves. And they were proud they could, for if not, sadness would truly be their creation.
the harmless ode (not really)