Codex for the end of Chronology

We are close, shoulder to shoulder, breath equal and clean. Hand in hand through the cloistral cloth covered texts. Authors who've lived for hundreds of years, spirits who conceal their blood diets as to appear as choralled light, naked prior invisible. Masters and known to us. 

The atomic clock cinched by precision is now telephony. Time pieces are now driven by mail delivery. You are bright and your emotions are unseen and your limbs are transparent. Your merging with nature is seamless as you feed on days, and make the final seeable closing of your eyelids the pallette of your coined experience.