the infinite springness regenerates for some
doubt, cycles despair and loneliness. A new
start to something old. Winter is an excuse
without sun and skin; spring they will ask
why you are sad again. why are you sad
again. Do the violets not move you nor the
dewdrops defuse the lead-heavy hours? Are
you lonely for someone - I miss the sadness
in everyone. I need to begin a chemical
routine, like a flower soaked in pesticide
on a beautiful spring day in Tennessee.
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 footnotes:
Post a Comment