I will wait for the jagged edges of rock to be our home, while we tame the embattled island with our sandwich baskets. We will lie on the ground and say what we can't say from a distance, secrets and declarations and promises, we'll make our own cities and languages, with my head in your hands, with the sea knawing at granite beneath us.
Maybe, at this hour, when everything has realised itself, they will land at our harbor and we will leave the baskets behind, walk across the water to the soft pale orbs that float for us, doors wide as nautillus arms, and as many. Maybe, but, you know, it would be more than enough, for faith in stories, to just see you, for an hour. _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
