slow sunset burn
two twin ranks of light on my wall
while the moon pulls the surf
and your body echoes beacons
that I will not have even
felt until later
and interpret in these quiet moments
in the bed alone
when your absence shrieks
and my longing just whimpers.
Bjork is so rad.
It's 11:30 here at night in Colorado and the night air now always feels like snow should come shifting in on our winds, but it's the contrast from 85+ degree weather in Texas. My tan will fade and I'll graduate soon and my total fear is that I'll leave the college and nothing will be eyeing me or recognizing me. It's not that I need attention, but a direction would be nice. And this whole diary I cling to the positive prospect of just interacting with people, but I can't walk around and just shake hands with people for the rest of my life, can I?
I want to be in love.
spoooooon,
Jared