Once Again, A Long Time Before Morning nobody wakes up one more morning and declares to the world, please, please, let me be lonely today. nobody haunts their own shadow with the keys to a house long-burned-to-ground and restless with ghosts. there is a scent of pine, a log-fire burning thirty million continents away. the insanity of eyes longing to see you you open arms and intelligent laughter and perhaps even a half-read novel waiting on the kitchen table. you can still hear the voice, this will never be yours. and so you sit, staring out at the harbor, centuries before dawn. youre cold but you dont care. youre just wondering if the second half of the novel equals the first. this will never be yours. the delicious torture of bread baking in a loving oven sometimes replaces the sting of saltwater. sometimes you think youre almost home.
Posted on: Fri, 25 Oct 2013 04:06:30 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015