the stars, the sea, and sleep.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

It Isn't Fair

The night stood still for a calming soul,
Not even a whisper from the poison oak.
Quiet and contained, paired warmth, lungs bright,
I said every word thinking no, no, no,
But what do I know. You said you were sorry
Like you couldn't even breathe right.
Spin around the calendar, here we go again.
This time let everything be said and
Take it to the grave or take it to your bed.

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