22.8.11
Ecrire, ecrire pour moi, s'il vous plait
Can't force words to flow when they won't. I tapped the well so hard, the ground went dry, and now all I can do is wait for the next downpour, and pray that I hold on for dear life.
19.8.11
Orange Moon
Reflecting the light of the sun. I'm an orange moon.
In mon boudoir. Candlelight, moonshine (non-alcoholic), brown skin, sitting with the perfect posture, posed, perplexed by the pimple on her right cheek, and the clock saying 11:58. She just got home. How could it be so late, so soon?
As I watched the orange 3/4 moon peeking through the silhouette of branches of my silver maple tree, I smiled inside. Sitting in my ancient, desperate in need of reupholstering computer chair (That I should replace) I think about the myriad of possibilities placed before me at this very moment.
As I grow older, my understanding, particularly my relationships change. I'd like to type down my thoughts, but can never find the time. The clock ticks 4 minutes to 2 AM and I can only hope that sometime soon I will learn the art of sleeping.
Bad language isn't attractive, neither are bags beneath the eyes...
In mon boudoir. Candlelight, moonshine (non-alcoholic), brown skin, sitting with the perfect posture, posed, perplexed by the pimple on her right cheek, and the clock saying 11:58. She just got home. How could it be so late, so soon?
As I watched the orange 3/4 moon peeking through the silhouette of branches of my silver maple tree, I smiled inside. Sitting in my ancient, desperate in need of reupholstering computer chair (That I should replace) I think about the myriad of possibilities placed before me at this very moment.
As I grow older, my understanding, particularly my relationships change. I'd like to type down my thoughts, but can never find the time. The clock ticks 4 minutes to 2 AM and I can only hope that sometime soon I will learn the art of sleeping.
Bad language isn't attractive, neither are bags beneath the eyes...
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