My 'last' night here. Or is it? I shall remember.
The telephone I called him from...
The breeze through the kitchen window as I washed the dinner dishes...
My room which I permeated so terribly that it carries my stench rather than my essence.
So much has been hurled, so little touched.
I've grown hard and painfully these four years.
Friday, June 10, 2005
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment