Up on a hill across the blue lake, that's where I had my first heartbreak

In the Beginning // Chad deNiord We lived in bed, no matter where we went or what we did; we were always there, pulling the sheets up over our heads like souls for whom bodies are gowns that weigh too much, pressing ourselves so close to each other we felt our skin cross over to bone. How many days did we dream like this in our high stone room to which we'd flown on the wings of little deaths? We slept awake and woke asleep in a fire we couldn’t put out; in a fire that burned from the inside out. What did we know without saying? That we would suffer the weight we lost without even trying when we returned, then walk like turtles on the beach? How fast do you think we said "Yes! Yes!" to the poor first god when he asked us twice in separate rooms, "Are you sure about this?" So fast, I can tell you, that the birds outside our broken window thought we were singing a song only they remembered.