The night grows silent. I had something to talk about but she took it away.
The night grows cold. I had a feeling then she sucked it away.
The dream grows. I had a thought but she discarded it like she does her own.
I wake up. She wants to close her eyes.
There comes the time when we are in align. Then she decides a maze is better to keep me
wondering behind...
I am not nearly confused to the way things are. She doesn't know which way to go.
A yawn is a yawn - but a thought...will set you free!
(written Tuesday, November 21, 2006)
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