sleep left me somewhere before the sun rose to take its place, and now during those hours which no one lays claim to, i find myself awake and thinking. about, whether it’s raining there, or only here. whether flowers will ever bloom into bursting rebellion againt the gloom into which we send our hope, never receiving any echo. if time ever allows for the peaches to be ripe when the watermelon’s chilled. and why, nobody, not even the Sun, can warm me as you do.


3 thoughts on “

  1. lol, my meaning was that your poetry is very good, just a world away from a lot of other writing. it would seem as if you put a lot more thought into them than some poetry i’ve read on xanga (some of it is truly awful..everyone assumes they can just write)…well anyways, regardless of your approach, it’s very interesting and encapsulating to read


  2. Some beautiful poetry you write. I was especially impressed with ‘pantoum’ because of the originality of style. But all of your work is very creative and “nobody, not even the Sun, can warm me as you do”


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