Monday, August 25, 2008

Birthdays

it's strange,
that taste of balloon on your lips.
it was different to before.

it's a lightning white shot
across the velvet sky.
"our sky seems lower than this."

it's the smell on your hands,
and the red burn,
after swinging on the monkey bars.

it's peculiar
that you weren't here
when all of this happened.

but i thought of you anyway.

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