torvid

bleeder withe the heliotrope: i always focused on the wrong half somehow. saw in strange ways and bigger, loved with all the fierceness of a caged saint (martyrs fall easy into coastal breeze woods) and you (so many sides and pleasures, smiles that range from upward to lifelong) had so many things a million worlds, words i saw them all, but sent in letters so many times (too many) the rough side, the tender over-used mechanism for drawing tears and you have you have so well so fluently as spanish prisons well kept airs above the rest, but more and many as all of that you are shining, queen and sillouette of the way it happens in good timings.

your uneasy sides are so easy to see. it's the tender, love stricken girl side that's worth acknowledging.

2004-05-19 | 5:43 p.m.
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