I wait always
for the return
through a frosty window
or the gloomy autumn clouds,
the memories trapping me
in this desperate isolation,
a distorted hope -
everything is blurry and fluid
and the confusion pulls
at my tender core
with every glance.
Tuesday, November 01, 2005
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1 comment:
the confusion pulls
at my tender core
with every glance.
my favorite line...
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