Friday, January 13, 2006


Tomorrow, I begin again to offer what I have, what's been given me and what I can't keep.
But why does it always have to run this path of anxiety?
The shortness of breath reminds me that I do not supply the air.
The images freeze-framed remind me I do not supply the vision.
The memory at a loss makes me rely on another Word.
Only one note in a long melody.

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