Tossing and Tortured 'Till Dawn

I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide.

Monday, May 30, 2005

Now you are here,
but where have I gone?

Or have you left,
and I the one who remains?

Your presence dodges daily at the fringes
But we never quite meet.

How long will we take our inspirations from passing comets?

Where will we walk?

These nights are long and misdirected, and I'd be shocked if yours were anything but.

Ellipses and circles and helixes and lines.



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