One before, one after




Humble jungle
Saturday, February 8, 2003
When words get cryptic and mood gets tense,
you know something strange is happening over the fence.
A bulging eye peeks through the hole,
a shaking hand reaches under for a piece of coal
to keep warm through the winter night
through what will be a solitary delight.

I looked over the fence into a puddle.
I saw an iris locked inside a bubble
of naive flesh and nervous temper.
I opened my mouth and out came a whimper.

I saw the moon in that puddle
and remembered to kick my quintescent saddle.

Last 5 entries
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Recharge
Ultimate solution
Ye olde sleep

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