Wednesday, September 7, 2011

I'm hiding my eyes, pretending to watch my own steps, waiting for the shadow of the angel of death, whose hemlock kiss shall quench all my desires in sweetest slumber.

But I suppose living should be our lesson in chance.
How we learn that none of this could ever have been written before, for no one would read it.
Or if it has been written, at least we're not alone.

4 comments:

  1. Love always,

    sleepy F

    ReplyDelete
  2. always are alone,
    we love sleepy F

    ReplyDelete
  3. Don't you feel eyes moving over your body?

    Love always,

    F

    ReplyDelete