Friday, February 23, 2007

By the Early Morning

With the bull tie around my neck the stock white blur of a Saturday afternoon goes to my head like Monday morning traffic.
Hot steaming satisfaction of one early afternoon day. Funnel and grass scoped by dirt falling grains through my fingers lost in perpetual thought, perpetual hurt, perpetual shock as my head slowly hits her breast like soft down pillow.
Nobody knows all the horrors going on everyday.

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