January 2011
1 post
Dear You,
I’d hope, one of these lonesome days when the wind is tired and the oceans calm, you would speak to me.
A whisper, perhaps, full of unforced syllables and longing to hold me.
A murmur, a mumble, a something, that catches your thoughts in a bottle drifting out at sea to me.
But the air I breathe doesn’t know it is your air and the sounds I hear don’t know if they are...
