Friday, February 25, 2005
A Winter Morning
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A white blanket drapes over
the rigid contours of the earth.
Its pristine condition is so frail;
for any disturbence, and it will be tarnished.
From my window, I witness this marvel of nature.
Then, I turn and see you,
Still asleep,
even though its late morning.
The white blanket draped over
the flawless curves of your body.
Your innocence keeps me from waking you.
Children of the Moon
12:41 AM