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.


conversation



Antiquity
Old blogs
mmwah
highschoolheart
tressaillements

Archives
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
March 2009
August 2009
September 2009
November 2009
April 2010

Layout ©
Designer: Manikka
Resources: 1 2 3
Weblog Commenting and Trackback by HaloScan.com
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Everyone, but
My eyes flash bright green, on the scene, and I look them up and down. My head can't help but scream that those flirts will never be enough for you. Maybe in my head, I'm hoping I'll never have to sigh and say "Fine, that'll do." My lips are tight and sworn to secrecy (let's keep the alcohol away from this sinking ship) because I've got no right to win and all I can do is single you out in the crowd.

My eyes dart back and forth, as the beats fall into place on my hips and the stiffness falters right when I find you. When the lights cascade, all I can do to keep from smiling way too wide is try not to glance too long. The sound of that voice when I know those eyes are on the red, black, white keeps my eyes from flashing bright green; that laugh that told me you were looking when I tried to make you.

Thank you for the moments you'll never know you gave me (:

|