Sunday, February 15, 2009
Those words I can not stop.
I look outside and see the soft light of a setting sun bathing the naked trees in my backyard, a surreal sight, to look outside and find everything painted in mauve light, as if the fingers of the new born night had reached out from the other side to caress and ease the world into the dark. I wish there was some special light that would envelope my aching heart and ease it into its goodnight. I like writing in the dark. It feels private, like if I were alone, alone in a path to find what I need...
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