Wednesday, July 23, 2008


for no good reason, that:

the bread will rise
guests will laugh, slurp, nibble, flirt, and head home
sated, happy, eager to return
tomato seeds, pushed into warm and weedy earth, will fruit and topple
my touch will land, firm, gentle and precise
You will still be there, a warm and softly wheezing lump beneath the sheet
when I awake

all without my effort,
or control

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