An errant moment in time when allure passes by in a flash. The ticking seconds is an eternity to amuse onself with the fantasy of being the destination, the goal of why beauty would strut along. The streaks of brilliance they leave behind is just as likely to draw out its true course, and no delusion could conceal the same tracks already marked to skirt on past. A quiet dream among a thousand more before and a thousand more to come, walking on by.