Thursday, September 10, 2009
I can not fly
A walk, tranquil, pleasantly numbing, until a falling leaf, golden and ripe, reminds me of you, how you tried to capture its color that day, mixing shades with words...sitting by the bay. The dance of this leaf as it races to the ground, brings me back to that afternoon when we laid on the floor and watch the trees shed their dancing jewels until it got dark. My heart starts to flutter with the thought of you but I do not want to feel, I like being blank, empty, like this paper was before the...
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