Monday, June 25, 2012

Mixed Feelings

Arms wrapped around me
Holding on
Head on my shoulder
Talking in a whisper now
Still telling me how mean and rude I am
He’s either standing in bread lines in Moscow or
He’s just returned to his beach front home after a hurricane or a tsunami
Intent on crying
While he stares out over the water and into the hazy spot
Where sky meets water

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