Sunday, July 24, 2011

When you were on the other continent

Written long ago, unfreezing now. 

It was freezing cold,
I closed my window.
Frost formed,
And I wrote your name

On a drowsy morning
Steam sat on the glass door of the bathroom
Dulled by the distances and the paucity of conversation
The steam stanced like a stained glass
And I wrote your name

I nibbled on food
Mindlessly munching
I wrote your name on my plate
And fed my soul

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