Stopped and stared at the meeting point of the horizon and the slow sun set, dark and demanding that I put everything down and leave this town again, give my things to the girls and turn around again.  Driving down the interstate, cruising across mountains, dancing in the starlight, drinking till my stomach turns, kissing strangers in broken down cars, laughing in the dark alleyways behind bars with wooden doors and cheap beers and not much else.  Wandering through the deepest recesses of the way things used to be, picking up pieces of tattered torn broken shells, remembering who they used to hold and whose hands.  Black skies and light hearts combined, fires sparking up toward the top of the building we're staying in with its glass ceilings and handleless front doors, staying here a while til we're forced to move by the most natural of reasons.  Screaming because we can't stay here, kicking at the surface as we make our way home, crashing into each other only to wake up shivering from lonely cold.  Feet in shoes, glasses on head holding back hair that's been held back one too many things before: we'll all find our way there someday soon.