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| sometimes when I am lying in bed,
or standing on a rock looking over the sea or walking down a long road on a starry night I imagine that moment to come. that airport moment when the world will spin around us in our euphoric embrace, when my comfort will be your arms and not these late night notebook scratchings. that moment, already frozen in my third eye rehearsed a hundred times in my waking and sleeping self; in my day dreams and night dreams, that moment when I put my hand on your cheek and all my words leave me, my mouth stops (and time as well) and you become the only poem I will ever know. |