A sinking sun pulls the night forward. Its embers gathering their last red and gold flakes; Resigning to the dark. This scene is not about mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters, and the half-truths we tell our selves to remember a past not worth remembering. This is not about acceptance and forgiveness, and the ways we make believe our hand rises of its own accord. This is about the glow of fading, about wild, midnight notions and great oceans at the edges of our ears. This is about over the shoulder tosses, off-the-cuff thoughts and maddening truths that creep out of the evening of our desires and won’t die no matter how hard we try.