Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Poem 4

The little voice in the back of your head stops talking and you realize how lost you are without it.
I love you.
What is this?
Is this apathy? Truly just not...

There's that feeling of...

A lack of a feeling?

Wait, what?
Did you say something?
Oh. Must've been my imagination.

But it's not there

Goodness. Light. Virginity. Whatever.
Dark. Home, warm. Soft, gentle, loving.
A familiar little sense runs through me.

I tilt my head back like feeling the rain. Home.
I'm home.

I turn to see the one who spoke. And yes, you spoke, aloud or not.
I love you.

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