Wednesday, May 03, 2006

She Disappears Into A Disappearing Room

with her wind chime smile

she likes walt whitman
and dreams

a prairie
floating on the ocean
collecting snowflakes

to touch her tongue like
silver whistles & free skies

the stars swing

lamp like

punctual
as her tune

anna, anna,
tape this love ribbon to the bed
and hold on
cause
your little window is
slippery

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Hi,

Felt like a different person, from a different time. Somone that was here for an instant, then gone..

Dan

9:54 PM  

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