Friday, August 11, 2006
Too cutsie for Rosie
Beyond the bed lives a dream. Follow the haze to the pointed roof top, slumber and be still. flesh is closer now, I feel your skin against mine in the night, above my house, I think the stars are pointing at us. There's a garden sometimes, and solid metal victorian chairs, I'm rude to you with my hand as we sip tea on the terrace. Flowers curl around the conservatory. It is a summer evening. Sweetness of lips leaves it's impression most, we are 15 again and you are my first kiss. My body is young and small and I can please you with no inhibition... Waking is no sorrow, dreams of you are as good as the real thing.
¶ 11:38 am 
