(patchworkgirl) wrote,

  • Music:

orange juice hotels

i am reminded of a time when i used to write more
when i used to have things to write about
i could stand still, take in the weight of a panoramic view, and understand the beauty of things, of people

it's all starting to return to me..........startling

the friday night mist followed us into al's appartment
with each inhalation we blurred the boundaries of age and our own vision

and i met some boys
their lives are almost inviting.....almost

bottles of escapism on staurday made me feel wanted
as did a not-so-lingering hug while the man opened my car door
it's too felt so warm

sunday was all about the much-needed exhibitionism of pretending to be a musician
now i've sung for you

can it ever be the way it was?
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