Sunday, November 30, 2008

any thing, really.

we forget what it means: lingering under the lamplight, anxious to get home,
holding hands as cold and limp as a freshly caught bullfrog.
saying words like, "oh, remember when?" & "why can`t it be like that?"
well, i am sorry if I had encouraged you to feel any less beautiful, or handsome, or creative, or worthy.
some things ought to be said about that.


nelly rose said...

bullfrogs are ok. I like tortles, my self.

Samantha said...

I find myself sorry, too. More often than not.