He's the moment after the alarm
when groggy and cold
i climb from squeeky metal bed
and open the window to the
chirping grey morning
He's cold; as water falls softly cleansing
all my sadness away.
then hes the warm clean terrycloth towel.
he's an answering machine messahe4
from three weeks ago
all alive singing
"pick up dearheart!"
a pick me up.
he's a point in matted hair
the scent of lemon drops on his breath.
He's the one who talks between tracks on
a cd.
He's the buzz of silence after all the fiz
of a a coke poured on an iced glass disappears.
He's the pink-centered white
petals that fall from trees
every spring.
He's the part of a sock
where the think threads have
rubbed thin.
showing darkened skin.
He's the scent of a rain fall in Autuem
dead, old
evolving ; revolving
hes the after taste of a drink of water
from constantly flowing streams.
He's the middle...
the middle...
And the beginning of me.
11:23 pm - 07.05.03
Recent entries:
Babs! - Thursday, May. 06, 2010
Golden Heads - Wednesday, Dec. 23, 2009
doublee - Saturday, Dec. 12, 2009
alone, I shine. - Thursday, Aug. 27, 2009
save me. - Sunday, Aug. 16, 2009
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