Sunday, October 03, 2004

Harmonica

Through the viscous urban streets
Dancing like a dream unleashed
Up the stairs and through the door
Roped in silence to the floor
Gliding, hazed and barely felt
The mist of rain from winter pelt
Settling in warmth before the fire
To the call of the harmonica.

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 I'm bad at vulnerability     I like to tie off places  Where mess might hide Might wander in to introduce themself Until I'm all kn...