Thursday, February 2, 2012

Meetings With Strangers

Now I'm running backwards
Steering clear of lofty hazards
Sixty miles begs for freedom
But gravity will shift its standards

Conversations become butter
Bitter lovers run for cover
Silken lips that once did love
Seek out but never find another

Repeating softly, she says,
"How I always longed to dream"
With deception as a best friend
Broken hearts assure routine

- LKS, 2/2/2012

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