November 2, 2008
unraveling dreamsilk
stripped of its shimmer
drops like hair from your grasp

once vibrant eyes
shaded, jaded and glazed
clouded by days of academic haze

what's real?
can anything make me feel

kite string to the clouds
brisk walks and
melancholy notes
in your eyes, like the wind
from your fingers, like sketches
words blanketed, tangled in thicket
wishing for winter's salvation

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