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A solo performer invites you to look into their eyes and asks if you can see the road that maps to their soul. Smoke clears from their face as they recall picture-perfect good times, speaking in metaphors about identity and memory.
A solo performer invites you to look into their eyes and asks if you can see the road that maps to their soul. Smoke clears from their face as they recall picture-perfect good times, speaking in metaphors about identity and memory.
Look in my eyes, tell me your tale. Do you see the road that maps to my soul? Or tell me the size whenever the smoke clear out of my face and my picture perfect good times.
