Wednesday, December 9, 2009

day 142:

she doesnt taste like plastic
more like water
she touches me like the ocean
my whole body at once
holds me like the breeze
her grasp is cold
but her heart
her heart
is warm
like her breath
if i could i would bottle it
hold it whiles she traveling
she never stops moving
and i never stop chasing yesterday and comfort and security
we are waiting to be in one place for more than a day together
still searching for a tomorrow that seems realistic enough to picture
we are our own worst enemys
our aspirations are the only pillars between us and our dreams

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