Every time I meet myself, I meet you Slicks of glasses on the streets remind me of the way we seemed. Thousand mimic gestures pass, with charming locks, left untouched. Streaks of lights hound our way,

Should I change? What shall I do, the meanings are suffocating? How shall I say, the burdens are washing away? Should I be free and calm? Should I just dance around? Should I be weird about it? Should