Saturday, January 19, 2008

We let the olive tree scrape up the roof, so that we can always hear the wind.

Fevered now.
Smooth smooth still and calm.
She said, I was feeling peaceful
She reflected tranquility
She reflected quiet
Still still quiet and smooth
She was so tranquil.
I reflected peaceful.

A child's lips pressed against an eyelid
small fingers splayed against temples
and the smell of strawberry shampoo.

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

*oh*! I *understood* this! That fever caused third person voice!

January 19, 2008  

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