Matchbox Altars

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Like magic.
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      • She begins again.
      • Sweet glory what a beautiful day.
      • What was she thinking?
      • It took awhile to find them.
      • It's hard to see anything else.
      • Next time breathe.
      • A nap was half upon her.
      • Focus on one thing.
      • She held herself back.
      • It's taking the first shot that's the hardest.
      • She needed to get out.
      • Nothing about her strayed.
      • Hers were sucked dry.
      • She'll keep a history.
      • She can see the fruit.
      • The neighbors are fighting.
      • They're little altars.
      • How the hell does that happen?
      • Like magic.
      • She had no answers.
      • She likes them.
      • Barely anyone says a word.
      • The sunlight made her want to cry.
      • A bit of distance is a wondrous thing.
      • She couldn't get away from them.
      • Finding a warm place.
      • Looking hard.
      • Be quiet.
      • Her moments of exuberance.
      • ... with bits of red.
      • Two girls with one umbrella.
    • ►  April (30)
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