morning letter for -------

and you, who
secretly so often wanted only
a twenty-nine palms life
and all the sorcery
that springs forth from
such nights and hours

you,
who smile so frantically
when thinking about it
who looks down in shy stares
at the earth, a smile
almost as large as san francisco
loomes out from beneath
your falling hair.

but you,
who so often wanted the
twenty-nine palms life
and now so eagerly accept
the slowness of a church life-
you are wasted years:
you are spent time admiring
everything from afar
(the half lived life)
the sum of experiences craved
and sun rays you longed to
feel on your skin
but instead settle for
a cotton filtered light

and maybe that's where
you belong, but it's not
where i pictured you.

it's not what i imagined
for you knowing you as i did.

2006-08-01 | 2:47 p.m.
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