Surreal AI Film • What does happiness look like?

She paints her summer on the wall, open sky beside the stairs, a little blue falls on her shoes, she laughs and leaves the color there, across the street, paper kite, lifts from a pair of weathered hands, he lets the string out, inch by, feels the whole sky, catches us in little ways, before we think to ask, A sudden laugh, an open sky, a moment we could hurry past. What does happiness look like? It takes the shape of what we love. A window open to the rain, a kite far up, a little room to be ourselves, a place beside someone we know. It takes the shape of what we love and changes as we grow. He asks her for another dance. She says, you'll step upon my shoes. He bows and says, then take them off. She laughs, well, what have we to lose? Their bare feet find the faded rug. They turn as evening fills the room. Their shadows climb the painted wall and dance beneath the painted moon. The record ends. They take their seats, her hands still resting over his. Once there's nothing, does happiness look like? It takes the shape of what we love into the rain. Far. Be ourselves, a place beside someone we know. It's the shape of what we love. Leaves her shoes beside the stream. It's the water, find her feet. Pills in the grass, shadows softening. She watches clouds become a ship. Come apart and drift away. Book lies open on her knee. She hasn't turned a page all day. When the day is hard to hold, it makes smaller than before a bowl left warming. And who sits through passing rain and never asks us to explain. We don't have to find the words, they pull their chair. She says, daughter, hold the laser, lift her face and laugh. A joyful happiness look like. Takes the shape of what we love. Things that help us find our feet. We can call our own life with room for someone. Takes the shape of what we love. A different shape for me. is dried beside the stairs two pairs of shoes lie on the floor she takes his hand to help him rise he asks her does happiness look like is as we asked her for another dance she says you'll step upon my shoe he bows and says then take them off she laughs well what have we to lose their bare feet find the faded rug they turn as evening did a wall and dance They take their seats, her hands still resting over his phone. There's nothing more to add to an afternoon like this. It takes the shape of what we kite, sits through passing rain, and never asks us to explain. We don't have their chair, a little cl- It's the shape of what we-