the page is set; the ink is wet.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
April 3
Sunny.
It's like summer
when I have no feeling of spring.
Awake; resolved;
the promise.
Months will pass
and soon we will be
past today.
How slow.
How fast.
Warmth's fingers melt
into my face.
Come soon.
Come soon.
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