DurianThorn

The man you visited in a dream, The one you re-traced a half-remembered Path for, in the off-chance of Surprising one another again - Polychromatic flannel and subtle sighing Through the teeth, gently Warm eyes softly exotic Slavic vodka on a late summer night - Swept by today, wearing blinders of Deep conversation, still Smiling with an accent His arm around a waist I want to sit in my room, arms wrapped around Knees against chest in the solace of the sun, I want to watch the endless journeys of Sidewalk strangers from the fire escape But it's ten to four and There's no time to cry anymore; Only time to join the chattering Choir