He is nostalgia personified; wistfulness marked on the edge of his skin like a badly written memoir and the faint light of the city sparkling feebly in once joyful eyes.

A sensation like euphoria skates through the surface of his skin and he turns, a half step and a staccato twirl, body remembering the melody of a story half remembered and half buried in the sand.

And suddenly, even as he dances, the shadow turns into two, forms pressing close together and following the moon's romance with the sky, bodies folding in the same phases as of the moon's sojourn.

The shadows beckon,

and 

he remembers---

The bright flash of forms spinning into position, bronze skin dappled with the light sheen of sweat as passion runs its course, curling into his belly.

"Hi-" he remembers looking at bright eyes and flushed cheeks and a beautiful smile, and his own lips curve upwards, tingling with the sensation of distant happiness.

He breathes, and the words tumble out of his mouth.

"nice to meet you."

And later, he remembers messy hair and breathless laughter and cold feet tucked underneath warm thighs, fire blazing even as the windows rattled with the maelstrom of December, sleet falling rapidly and painting the city with slumber and visible flecks of gray.

Now the city had forgotten weary limbs and smiles painted the same way as the makeup that dries on the skin, had tucked into the attic of memories both pleasant and best forgotten the torn throats and the aching feet from stepping into formations too many at a time.

Music plays and it smiles at the remembrance of the songs once sung by voices of two (and at times four and six and yet the best of 12), but bronze painted skin laughs at the voices linking notes into melodies and whispers, "we sounded like that once."

He laughs, listens to the undercurrent of the beat, (and instead hears laughter and tears and resolve).

Laughter fades away into a smile, and he presses close to skin like spun gold, watches the fire dancing merrily on its grate, fingers curling together as they swath themselves with the blanket of memories.

The songs continue, and tears and laughter and resolve fade away until only the "we are one" repeats like a broken record, voices screaming in tandem until they only heard the voice of one.
 

The music stops, and there is only him and his shadow for company.

-------------

so...yeah. wrote this ages ago, and I was reluctant to

post this because its all over the place and it doesn't even make sense

but its still kailu inspired so that's going to count for something?

hope you understand what this whole thing is all about, LOL.

please do read and comment!

and I missed thw hole concert last night so... T_______T

/sobbing my heart out