Introducing Palace Players

It beckons, it breathes, its so quite, and I always leave...


I ran as fast as I could. The car sped away without stalling. I stopped and wondered if the feeling of forgetfulness ever lingered in its simply complex structure, in it's oiled heart. The mid seasons always pass by unnoticed, and unmoved by my persistent begging to stay awhile and talk. The coffee is always cold when the conversations are good. Brian wrote a poem that rolled in my head as if they were die in the hand of one ready to cast. Casting shadows in artificial light never sat well with me. Emptiness ensued as the sun's reflection bounded away off the top of the automobile. Automatically. I am not mobile and fear is never noble. If I could reach into my heart and shake these feelings loose, I'd set them beside you and ask why they were such an awkward fit. You can try them on if you'd like, but they might shrink. Your favorite colours away fade when what's supposed to keep them clean, only makes them a fragment of what they were, once upon a time. Yet they are still our favorite. Like memories, like endless rambling words, like stories that have no meaning...yet they always mean something to me.

...or so it seems.