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By Ali Date: 2006 Aug 07 Comment on this Work [[2006.08.07.16.18.15666]] |
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I thought you were somebody else (or, rather, that somebody else was you). But when this fearful slumber ceases, I wonder: will the rest be silence? Still, if every moment is composed by some music of the past-- How ever can I be rid of you? A variation on a theme-- that is, now, how I remember you, with every stranger, passing pretty, in your face-- Dreamcatcher, bewitcher, bereft in a beguiling brevity, blue: I know-- ...it wasn't love. |