Thursday, September 1, 2011

The exhaustion brought about by roads and crossroads and detours and highways, the mind's fatigue of housing images of roads and crossroads and detours and highways.

The only thing I want right now is to sit beside you and have that calming, unpretentious talk, of words and lines and stanzas, and the worlds in the words and the lines. Over nice mugs of hot coffee. Sweet. The warmth, tactile.

Your loss

is mine, too.