Jimin sat on the balcony that led from their bedroom. The early morning was the dominion of the birds. Birdsongs filtered through the air like jazz, softly floating and free; notes never written dancing as steps never taught. Each sound-bouquet came as a sculpture, one that only came from soul born to an infinite horizon, never tainted by the cruelty of a cage. With closed eyes, he imagined their music to be colors, painting stairs in the same way grapevines grow - this way and that, in a beautiful chaos that wasn't quite random. In the calm of the dawn, his heartbeat was the steady drum to their melody and he seeped into the moment, allowing himself to climb those rainbow stairs. Pink clouds with hues of orange scattered the sky like new roses of the season had blossomed in the morning sk
