seethingblue's Diaryland Diary

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in the auditorium with the blue seats

when we are the least bit connected.

when i feel like it is impossible.

you are breathing behind me, the creases in your pants are delicate and careful in their pattern,

the delicate lines and folds; ice cracking down the center.

you are soft to my doubt. pliable to the weak grip of my hands.

when i feel like it is impossible.

when i feel like i am having the worst day of my life,

i force myself to remember

16:25 - 28 August, 2002

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