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January 14, 2005
Life in B flat
The last breathe, quiet,
Cigarettes burning in the ashtray
Colors the air, vapors,
The door half open, I wait
The church bells, come the distance
I think of sunday mornings,
reading the psalms
I can see her, in the kitchen
Stirring a pot, chopping onions, carrots
While I sit on the counter,
trying to impress her,by a new piece
She stops, moves her hair from her face
So I can see her eyes, as she corrects me
We talk in our tongues,
Like I know, she does,
We sit in our space,
Time lingers, we drink tea
She takes sugar cubes,
I take mine black
As a dog barks in the distance
Posted by Idinraha at January 14, 2005 12:54 PM
Comments
Wooof Wooof!
Posted by: Cycho at January 14, 2005 06:20 PM