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Wednesday, January 30, 2008


I am no truly fleshed out thought heart still changing in the chill air growing like hair and grass only to be trimmed on certain occasions- pruned like bonsai trees and topiaries, much fonder of the former I like the way they twist and turn as the world does, churn as my stomach when I am away from physical reassurance, head meets chest is the most lovely of ways, loveliest of days when I can see the shooting stars at night pretending that their briefest light will ignite a spark between two human beings and the only thing I am sure of is this- the only way to make this better is-

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