December 18, 2007

January 4, 2008
December 18

I wanted a better picture to form

From the amalgamation

Of a hundred little pieces

I wanted something more complex and therefore more meaningful

But maybe I just missed the point.

The back of my mind waited for your phone call

While the front assured me that it didn’t matter

The christmas tree shone bright, reflecting

And eighteen flames rose from multicolored glass to release

Thin trails of smoke over the hearth.

We celebrate too many anniversaries

Of the written word

Of late nights at the keyboard

Of the same undertones in different masks

I don’t apologize anymore.

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Molly said...
Aug. 26, 2008 at 2:17 am
I don't really know how to tell you how much I like this, and how much I like everything you write.
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