Jason: hmm, I should type out my spring poem for you.
desired_tranquility: oh..you have a poem?
desired_tranquility: let me see it?
Jason: I wrote one for spring. It's kinda nice.
Jason: I was out the other night lighting a fire...
Jason: and the night was sooo beautiful.
Jason: here it is:

Spring

The still night air waits,

for my breath,

Lukewarm,

small sparks,

a breath of life comes to the night,

the flames burn,

higher still,

the night takes it in,

the first cleansing breath.

desired_tranquility: I like that it's pretty...
desired_tranquility: I never knew you wrote poetry..
Jason: I do on occasion.
Jason: The stuff that I normally write is either sexual, or violent.
desired_tranquility: but for that poem you felt peacefull and all?
Jason: yes.
Jason: complete tranquility.
desired_tranquility: do you know what put you in a mood like that....or just was in the mood....
Jason: It was the night.
Jason: it was so still, and it was like the spirits were waiting for me.
Jason: And when I lit the fire, a slight breeze fanned the flames.
Jason: It was beautiful.
desired_tranquility: Wow...
Jason: and outside of the light from the fire. The area was this grey/black.
Jason: like there was no light that existed there, like there was nothing there. Only the night, and the fire.
Jason: The fire an extension of the night. Making it's breath, and then it's life.
desired_tranquility: I think your writing again..
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