Sunday, September 16, 2007

Rugged Cloud Folx

Keeping up with the machines is rather hard when you're made of lead.

You are a beautiful person when you move that way.

Sometimes, when I am really tired, I think that way.

I don't like it when you talk to me that way.





Thank you for not telling everyone I've been happy lately.

It would be a shame if it fell into the wrong hands.

The light hit you just right last night. I was squinting hard.


Your fingers.

2 comments:

B said...

Hooray! Poems on a poetry blog.

Unknown said...

Woo hoo.