Sunday, May 15, 2005


i planned the lace,
i planned the face,
hair and hands
and legs as well,
where and when,
were planned and how!
but your time and mine
somewhere, somehow,
could never really jell.

but just that day,
upon a whim,
when i was locked out
in the summer sun,
i called to hear your voice.

you asked me where i was,
and walked up to meet my sighs.

the dust, the heat,
had had their fill,
and my lips were
burning dry,
my clothes did smell
like a battered day,
and i know i looked like hell.

but then i kissed you,
and you kissed me,
i think it went quite well,
so danger be hanged,
and planning be damned,
i'll have it this way again!

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