what have we become?

the weight of our legacy lies in the tangles of our history. pages tattered, ravaged, but filled with the fruit of a great love that is unable to find a foothold. you sit there, long agile fingers finding lost frets while i find frets of my own, of course mine are of quite a different sort.  a new life has found its way into yours and what am i? what have i become? look at those pages, stop for review.  let the synaptic connections fire hotly in your mind. remember the fire we would paint on each other's skin, not the ashen char that you would find were you to look today.