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Friday, May 14, 2010


You pressed the heels of your hands into the hollows
of your eyes, more like hammocks than bags yet still
packed with everything on your mind (so I guess the
imagery is right in the end). Sometimes I doubt if you
think of me of as good friend, because when I ask if you're alright
you tell me that you're fine, and I know it's not true. But then
your dams break and you spill your guts and I offer you tea
and cake, sad with your sadness but pleased with your trust.

I enjoy being trusted, because I tend to trust people.
I really want to explore the "bags under eyes" concept.

1 comment:

alia said...

"sad with your sadness," love it.