Saturday, April 21, 2001

when was the last time you moved three hours to seven?,
that was the last time but not the first,
crowds spoke in tongues,
foreign.. eyes
caught
fire...blazing
warm though alone
dont need you
greysweater and im better,
keeps this body warmer
greysweater, soft stand-in

stop sinking self in solutions

no better than the last time,
when three hours turned to eight
became part of walls...
paint flaking to the floor
become bark on tree trunks,
stiff.. protective

but soft as greysweaters...
soft and safe..
greysweater and im home
where three hours
become nine