Feeling: wide-eyed
Listening to: Jump, Little Children - Lamplight
Reading/Watching: Time of the Twins

I cannot rest, and there is nothing earth-shattering to relate, so in place of any new thoughts, I'm just posting a poem I wrote some time ago. It's pretty self-explanatory, and pertinent on a day like today.

Love, come, as curtained night unfurls
Against the claret sunbeams� past
Stars wink their giddy secret smiles
While pulses skid and fly too fast
It�s seven thousand minutes, now
Since empty arms have held you last.

Oh come, my love, my heart, my one
As tacet do the shadows wreathe
Cold streetlamps drowned in moon and fog
Like lungs, the asphalt oceans seethe-
But with my cheek against your chest
Your heartbeat teaches me to breathe

Come close, and fade the jangling noise
Entwine your voice with darkness deep
Amidst the roar of earth and man
One corner still in silence keeps:
The juncture of your arm and chest
Where, spent, these weary eyes can sleep

(Side note: I like the line about seven thousand minutes, because once, in boredom, I pulled out a calculator and found out how many minutes were in five days, which was often how long I had to wait to see mon coeur during busy school weeks. It was exactly seven thousand, two hundred minutes.)

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