The thunder became more distant. A piper's song luring the rain beyond the horizon. He stopped the car. He'd been driving for hours. The road was wet with fresh rain and evening was setting in. The sun had chosen a place to rest behind the mountains. A cathedral for the worship of inspiration & the preaching of physics. Dusk was sapping the vibrancy from the red & orange that painted the once azure sky. The first stars were setting the stage as the moon planned a grand entrance. He got out of the car, walked the foothill paths trying to clear his head. As the cloak of dark settled in she was the epitome of distraction. Each place he looked, within and without, he found her. Every thought was a story he wanted tell her, a song he wanted to sing for her, a picture he wanted to paint so vividly that there would be no chance of her ever forgetting him. Every shadow in the steadily deepening evening was a reminder of how little he knew of her and fueled his lingering doubt that he could hold the attention much less the affection of so wonderful a woman. --- i was going 70 when i saw the rain begin. i didn't even think to put the windows up. i just stuck my arm out into the wind, felt the million little pressures pushing against my skin. i thought of you then, beautiful you then. The million little pressures you must receive from thoughtless boys just like me. We wear our hearts out on our sleeve and flaunt desire like disease. We are the sick, the ones in need and you're the cure that we all seek. i can feel the build inside my head of a million little pressures over what i've said. i thought to offer you comfort, but suffer my guilt instead. The thoughts of the thoughtless aren't meant to be read.