August 2001
One of those times, ears pressed to pillows,
You looked at me from across the room
Like best friends often do.
And I remember the whisper
Of your eyes tracing my eyes
And seeing worlds there shared between us
As we spun anecdotes,
Tossing words across the room.
....
I think now,
One of those days, mind pressed for answers,
I look at you from across a wold
Like best friends often do.
And I remember the stab
Of your eyes catching my eyes
And seeing pain there caught between us
As we spin inside ourselves,
Tossing each other away.
