Monday, October 17, 2011

This can't all be wonderful. Sometimes it's just thoughts…



Later this month as the shadows make monsters with wicked hands and indelible horrors get up and walk, I'll rip up the endless list of things on my mind and toss it with the leaves in autumn's wind.



I am crushed flower petals.


With their hearts full of maybe lust and maybe love

and maybes and maybe nots

they turned and the room was gone.


She waited for midnight when time teetered between now and then

and into that pocket she slipped a little hope

where she would go searching again.

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