Cliché

How strange to think all the world. The deserts, the seas, the sweeping tropical storms, the hurricanes, those never sleeping cities.

How strange to think of all the cosmos. The dying stars, the consuming black holes, the far flung galaxies, and the brink of reality.

How strange to think that I sit here alone. In a room in a house, one day of a month and think and think. Of you and you alone; one person amongst it all.