Friday, June 25, 1993

X.

these days i write
long love letters
pining in the mist
for a lovers footfall
on drying leaves

knowing changes everything
familiarity breeds
not contempt
but a greater appreciation
for those things alien

deadly nightshade
awaits my third return
but i have never left
twenty five thousand
grains of sand have fallen

we always know
and always lives
but sometimes not enough

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