Tuesday, January 18, 2011

Flighty warm happiness in january

I heard a leaf
Scratch on pitted asphalt
On a thirsty
Night

Tonight and you were that leaf

My arms grab both of your sides
While the future
Embraces mine
Our lives scratching the ruble
As we are blown this way
And that.

Better to love you
Than pluck you from the branch
And I do
Despite my pruners
Gloves

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