as it turns out (19 flowers beneath the broken sun)

as it turns out, i fell in love with the wind, the way it soundes against the grass and arching around brick corners in mediteraean squares within my mind. and always this way, just before i see her name in print or hear her voice. always this way. like a candle that knows just the moment to flicker and grow before curling back in on itself into a tiny flame, but with all the power to grow again at any lost breath or hapless thought. at least, it is this way, whenever the wind arches corners or brushes across the grass picking up autumn's dead leaves and naming each and every one after her.

2003-09-01 | 7:34 p.m.
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