listening to: Spanish Temper - Washington
reading: facebook chat messages.
watching: my finger as it presses my tight-printed sunburn.
eating: salivation.
drinking: orange juice.
I carefully peel away the scars,
which lace my arm in memories
of your sweetness and lovely attire.
I sit and wait upon your return, which I am aware will be in two weeks minus one day's time. I think of calling you, sharing with you my news of insecurities and uncertainty. But I drop my hand and think instead. I feel your necklace imprinted kindly on my chest and supple clevage, and retain my inability to spell without you around. However, I may still write, and that I will, with new pens matching for me and you.
It suddenly occurrs to me my tone of pure ambience, and regretfully, lameness. Apologies...
This is in pure announcement of my upcoming post, it will cloud your eyes, and surface on this blog in no less than 5 days, marking the last day of the year, and a steady conclusion to my rampant bloging.
Stay tuned folks.
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