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Daevyr's Log: Titles Are Overrated
It's just a place where I keep thoughts or images that I want to be able to find later.


The one thing that I hate about being sick is not being able to sing.
Music is perfect.

On the upside, when I do sing, I have this creepy ******** Radiohead sound at the moment.

I'm so glad I exist in the same universe as you.
I'm so glad that we met.
Against astronomical odds, even!
I will love you like a preacher
in secret sinful bliss
And the sun will bake our skins
And wither the ground;
hot, merciless, the heat
as thick as cream
stretching
those old swaybacked
porch boards
until they groan.

And we will swing together
in our garden, sitting
--just so!--
far apart, and our hands
on the seat between us
inching closer as twilight falls
and clasping in the dark,
kissing beneath the cloud-veiled
ripe pumpkin moon.

I will teach you the old things;
the Southern things, like
peach ice-cream,
that you made yourself
in that old wooden bucket, and
the taste of honeysuckle on
someone else's tongue,
like a first kiss, every time.
And how to catch fireflies,
And how to let them go again.






User Comments: [1] [add]
Lhance
Community Member
avatar
commentCommented on: Wed Jan 28, 2009 @ 06:02am
This...is beauty beyond words, Addy.


User Comments: [1] [add]