Sunday, October 8, 2006

Bland

This I write as we should speak
And mourn the loss of lover's care
Our souls who witness this will weep
To know our worlds are barely there

No longer touching inside of you
I cannot reach beyond your wall
These superficial night venues
Replace the tenderness of last year's fall

Your face reads no secret emotion
The air is drenched with tense strain
I stare my hope into your reflection
While swallowing my rising pain

And through all of this dull and bland
I bite my lip and stare at your hands

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