my mind dwells too much on you
still unsure what to think
what to feel
I'm ashamed to say I think I'm beginning to love you
you are so flawed
so typical
and yet, tonight I can smell you on my shirt
and all I can do is dream on you
your lust, your eyes, your sadness
the ancient motherwit inside me
is longing to care for you
hold you tight and make you well
inspite of "superior" knowledge
I still believe in myths
somehow my love could cure you
and yet I know, in my heart of hearts
you will not come to love me
today, tomorrow or a thousand moons from now
yet you placate my weariness
and fill some days and nights with hope
in vain tho it may be, it's better than the long, empty night before the final dawn
diumenge, d’agost 12, 2007
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