Saturday, June 03, 2006

His Girl's In CA

All the miles of black telephone lines hosting choruses of small birds,

Every startled satellite blinking silent in space,

Rows of shining white keys before a glowing monitor,

Can never be warm lips in the morning,

A silent look of knowing,

An arm draped possesively loving in the deep black of night.

1 Comments:

Blogger Star Foster said...

Who are you? Reading comprhension and basic logic are sadly lacking in today's schools.

1:16 PM  

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