late nights and lyrical

unendless and coming up short like those nights when you (so many times long so many times around and life -full and less) would ask me to read long tragic pieces to you while you moved small slight circles over and across the smooth of your hip bone until finding your little favorite place and then circles (it's in the wrist in the wrist in the wrist where every sigh will spring forth from- the wrist brings sleep) and youso secretly while i rattled on about whatevber song or sound that came to mind or some hlaf cocked peice i'd only just written and then you with the loud sigh that said you'd found you'd found what you were looking for and now you were listening for the sheer joy of it (whatever joy you found there) and i flipping pages over and across and you quiet delirious and jello legged and laying back in the dark while i read on and on and on into the morning where each of us would soon be found and dressing for work...

2004-11-30 | 8:24 a.m.
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