Friday, October 13, 2006

This is

This is where I like to run, trip on small clouds, fall, and stand up with little pieces of cloud in my mouth and stuck on the rugged short hairs of my three-day-old beard. This is the skyscape through which I flew to see you one very early saturday morning in september. This is where I wish I were right now. This is maybe where I will be, someday after too many suns without you have passed.


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