they pay to kiss your feet

since there's no one else around, we let our hair grow long and forget all we used to know. then our skin gets thicker from living out in the snow.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

my dear.

i'm sorry that i can't always be
and that sometimes i become
by words
or a glance
...or maybe even by nothing.

see, it's just that things haven't always been
and this newness -- this feeling of acceptance and
love and grace
and hope...
well, it's foreign to me.
and so i teeter between
yesterday and tomorrow
and as i propel toward the future,
i drop bits of what was
like a trail of bread crumbs
left there as a reminder
of the places i do not wish to

and so i carry on
down this path toward
mountains or valleys
and oceans or plains...
and i'm happy in this middle ground
for once --
without knowing any answers
because you, my dear,
make the difference.


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