Friday, July 23, 2010

I am in a wooden room
and the eaves are re-assurring
The stone- work rooting
my eyes and cheeks touched
like lovers
My hands were beautiful
and small



Bold


Didn't you know that I wrote things down -to keep momentum of truths-this is the salty shore of sleep -the residue of your kiss
I'll remember this
and I'll smoke my cigarette.