Welcome
A slow breaking and mending
of blood and bone
fit for the poorest
of ivory souls.
Pour tomber, pour courir,
pour mourir; no less!

Mademoiselle
No one, to you,
do tell.
A dream,
perhaps a nightmare,
that died in your arms
much too long ago.


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Monday, August 20, 2007
This sucks
I haven't been able to write anything substancial, after that last entry..because all this time missing you just seems to translate into those same words over and over again.

How can it pain me so, to not have you with me?

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