Friday, April 14, 2006

it is funny how much death comes of love.

and in the here and now
i'll cry for a day
when i can think of you
separated from the sex
separated from wanting to hold you

and just sharing words
just being able to share lives
without having to know yr mine.

i wanted this
and i died to this
my choice has decided a perfect misery
on what day shall you bury the best of me?

a silver hope
i wrote this
in response to what you sent me:
a perfect poem
summing up a time
where i couldn't
find the strength to live in the gray.