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