Pictures don’t tell stories.
Pictures capture a moment, convey a message, give instruction or demand, but they don’t tell stories.
These beautiful images nothing more than a future mystery, a convergence of convenient conjecture. “Look what they got away with,” my smiling Cheshire cat – certainly the team to be on, I’d say… in a place like this. Oh these pictures, such careless reverie; not a care in the world. For so long, these binding ties have woven; where is trust, I wonder. How many pardons does safety require? Good fellow there, how my lenience has set you free – for some future favor, of course. Too much money to fret I suppose and oh the capture of one feeling so smug. Not quite so heady as love or passion but for for the likes of them, it’ll have to do.
Cherish those pictures, we’ve linked to our own beautiful memories, but forewarning to all the glorious entrapments of a place such as this. Do you think they worry
Me – I’ll tell you true.
Though revelations be a tricky sort –
My heart, my very character it would seem, abides by the rules of love – to be sure.
General