orgami's Diaryland Diary

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Jure take two

brush against the blue dress
sullen she asks
"Why you do what you do"

the phone with tear stained
booth has its peirce of paper
hearts

whom knows what lies
on river bottoms
and her eyes glow like December
aurora

"will this call be station to station"
the handset operator

the carpet is damp with worry
faded like an old stamp

I keep walking
and I dont look back
No I dont look back...

2:40 a.m. - 2010-12-26

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