Sunday, August 1, 2010

At home again.
Rain, traditional –
like Texas. Like it should be.
Just a lot of nothing.
The rain seems light enough,
but I started
writing you a letter to protect me.
It’s been a few days.
Peppermint, grey compromise
and handwritten books. Before I leave,
slightly worse. It already is. I’d
rather know when I will see you again, if I will…


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