All of it.
"because a single breath could lift an ash
slow draw the memories from the scars
(liquid devil through internal straws flesh red and knowing)"
this one, god, this one, A... esp the title, lol like my own poking poem... then you with your options lol (but not, also)... reading this over and over and over... exposes too much of me ( keep swallowing: literal and all metaphor combined).
is it possible to be awed and yet feel that I get 'used' to your writing? How I expect something amazing each time... so it seems commonplace, that the above is here... yet read each and again, amazement reborn... and understanding, again and again...
can one become raw from so much fascination, from so much discovery, from the constant pounding of 'yes'?
How can it be that my hunger for you has grown... sigh I've said too much here.. it's all in letters, written already or to be...
I ache for the box ~smile~
lol I just cursed and had to erase it (getting too comfortable here, forgetting where I am ~wink~) so: *curse* I know this over and over... wish you weren't feeling it now, wish you were curled and tingling with evening and the quiet of night, and the comfort that hush brings... that you were tired the way a child gets from a long, hard day of playing... how it feels to be swimming for hours and trampling in to the kitchen with your friends for dinner...child-like, daydreaming, smiling wide without knowing, feeling loved and sweet aching, that's how I want to know you're feeling...
so I'll wish it on you, and wish you good night.
I miss you, A. love. (how I don't even have to go back and edit it for spaces or clear wording. ~big smiles~)
[This message has been edited by Elizabeth Cor (04-06-2002 10:15 PM).]