orgami's Diaryland Diary

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oddity and obvious

dust in my eyes
my hair blows over my
face
its that long these days
not short like the yesterdays
i inhabited like an empty ruin
but full and fleshed in
robes of thoughtful
circulation

where is it my path
what is this my doubts
my aching irony
chronic anger

can you feel me when I
embrace you
hold you close
press your chest to mine
and the heartbeats
sing a song
a beat
of being

in the shadows whimpers
hope
lost again
from the trail

soon my sweet
soon....

3:39 p.m. - 2006-04-21

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