can we talk about this later?

we're living in a secret world, the kind that's exposed by only the tip bit of the edge of a broken mirror...a tiny grassy, wooded island--suburbanites' vacation escape from life's tedium [join the resistance, fall in love etched nightly in the sandy shores]--only the top of which is clear to the naked eye. submerged and extending for miles deep and wide, a whole life with a speckled, colored, uneven past, with bottles broken against walls and whispers in the 4am darkness and stories told in the mere expression of eyes. a whole world surrounded by water, so it's hard to pin down the constant, the reality. a whole world made up of memories of rooms and songs and those moments you both love and hate to recount; a place both so muddied and so totally bright that all words, coincidences, disappointments, consequences, decisions, spans of eye contact, all absences, all hopes and every single labored goodbye have 500-lb. weights attached to them, plunging us deeper and deeper. we're the brilliant glow of candlelight in darkness, we're those final hums of a person on the brink of death, we're the tattoo you just found out you had.