Wednesday, December 6, 2017

from p.4 on Mon., 12/4

The dry air
cracked away my fingers.

The crisp wind
like shards of glass
hitting my face.

Colorado,
without a drop of snow.

Moisture gone from the air....


-----


Paint fills my nose
and makes me cough.

How can something
so pretty become
deadly?

But aren't most things
in this wold like
that?


-----


Noises around us
loud laughter & chatter,
but all I hear is
your voice.

All I see is
your smile.

All I want is
this moment
to escape this memory.


-----


Walking into Marriot
Hotels looking like
we're from the 1920s
but the people we
sing for are. I
guess I'm living like
a Rockstar.



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