love poem (later) for rise

"The little bonus
of my hand on your breast
makes a bus seem so useful
when some rain begins to open.

then cloud waves cracked sun shafts
when the sky began to whistle
and I was thinking about it all night
just watching it move from my eye to my hand.

it's not very meaningless
the changes one makes lying down
it's almost the way a mountain feels
when it becomes a star"

- jim carroll

2003-05-20 | 9:16 p.m.
0 comments so far