Saturday, October 27, 2007
before during and after sunrise.
The speckled stuffy blue against patches of pink-purple, the somersault of white mocks the tranquility of silver. It's the absence of heartache from what was being said, and the presence of the forbidden despite debts owed, or paid. That I feel no conflict, only its enemy, and that I should think of it as thus, is rather telling. Breathless for the wrong reason, they taunted, tattooed beneath, that I am - for that moment- , no longer the keeper of keys.
she procrastinated @ 16:02 |
|