Tuesday, March 9, 2010

And the sky was white enough to almost take me to the airport. There is triple meaning in every item

I will not save regrets.
I will not as much as open them
Maybe look inside the music box but I still have not found
the one that suits me best behind the worn dirty metal wooden dusty dry molten window.

If your guilt is as strong as mine
we can both survive in disbelief
because hours are longer than they may appear
you just count in lines and not in beads.

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