Saturday, March 24, 2007

"He gets so jealous," she snickers, "When I talk about my conquests"
And I smile...

Looking into eyes and remembering the anger,
the sharp rage,
and flying cutlery,
Broken glass,
There goes my hat.

I feel old as I watch you now, dancing, laughing,
across the floor.
I remember many things
The peaceful, quiet moments,
forest scents, your rose perfume.

Sometimes, as I sit with you, and we discuss,
maybe the weather,
or perhaps chris,
I feel so natural again
easily relaxed.

You called me your best friend, the other day
you know,
that kinda threw me off.
I'd gotten used
to the walls between us,

I don't know if that can change,
But it's nice
to see you
Out in the pouring rain
Sharing a cigarette
on common grounds


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