I keep your light pressed in a book
May 24, 2009
Dear, your eyes are not the stars
They are not the stars
Though when we watched the cars
Blur along the highway
I felt you
And when the red tip of your cigarette
Crumbled in the river
I knew that we were fine
Because the stars in the sky
Were always too distant
To compare to what I knew,
Could never be so far
May 25, 2009 at 5:01 am
Lovely. Well done. Its impressionistic, but I like the image you evoke.