02 April 2007

Holy Week

Not once, in the days and months since past—not a call, not a clue that it was anything other than a waste, an experiment, a dress rehearsal for later lives.

You put down the foil, but not before knocking mine from my hands, and I stand dumbly sucking smarts you gave me.

Tears dry before hearts mend—this is eternal law.

No comments: