(Untitled)
When I turned the page
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear,
as if the words knew I'd need them again,
but at that time I couldn't see it.
I would read that page everyday for the next year.
She sang a short tune.
And I came from her soft touch and slept.
We sat on a shoreline watching wind scalp the white off the waves.
Sitting on a shoreline, and if I ( Read more... )
The corner bent into a perfect dog-ear,
as if the words knew I'd need them again,
but at that time I couldn't see it.
I would read that page everyday for the next year.
She sang a short tune.
And I came from her soft touch and slept.
We sat on a shoreline watching wind scalp the white off the waves.
Sitting on a shoreline, and if I ( Read more... )
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