Monday, July 16, 2007

Hurricane, watch over me.

A vision tonight of us together in the most literal sense, our flesh exposed, juxtaposed, curves to muscle, softly rich sheets fold and rustle, ignored, the perfect mix of rhythm and rhyme, no attention to clocks and miserly time, shadows our solitude together, a beautiful irony that no one can find a reason to hate, skin, heavily lidded eyes and heavy indian summer feelings; now is the only moment, though a million more may come.

The world around me shuddered for a moment as my mind and body remembered this vision of what is to come. I miss you, not only you as you are now, but as a you that I won't have for years to come. Both are so far, in miles and months, in tears and kisses and coffees and caresses and fears and hits and misses.

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