lucky you, stream of conciousness poetrytheviolentpoetNovember 17 2005, 05:34:52 UTC
I suddenly hated the curtain. The unnoticed backdrop to the blather and cigarette smoke. It was night but it spent half its time blocking out my light, usually to the dusk-happy eschelon of the day. The damn bulk of wine colored cloth that remembered each snobbish light of a cigarette, the signal to all that failing health means nothing to us. That damn bulk that kept the choir children from seeing the candle lit in the room, that left them to snow rather than shove our pennies into their tin. These curtains his mother had picked out to go with her room and this husband of mine. Yes I am utterly hateful of these curtains from now.
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The unnoticed backdrop to the
blather and cigarette smoke.
It was night
but it spent half its time
blocking out my light,
usually to the dusk-happy eschelon
of the day.
The damn bulk of wine colored cloth
that remembered each snobbish light
of a cigarette, the signal to all
that failing health means nothing to us.
That damn bulk that kept the choir children
from seeing the candle lit in the room,
that left them to snow rather
than shove our pennies into their tin.
These curtains his mother had picked out
to go with her room
and this husband of mine.
Yes
I am utterly hateful of these curtains from now.
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What a nice post to see first thing in the morning...
What's that business around the eyes though? Secondary eyebrows...?
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YES ! :)
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