Sunday, November 18, 2007


When the misty winters descend on her heart and life smells of wet lichens left behind by the autumn rain. She wakes up to find herself on the familiar green porcelain… freezing her thighs and nostalgia crawling up to the lungs.

It was winters when they dreamt. They dreamt of saving each other. She had nothing. He had lost everything. He was going to save her for she had rescued him. They walked down foggy streets grinning at strangers, whispering each others name like a sacred talisman.

He was going to marvel at her feet crushing the crunchy frost. She was going to give him goose pimples. They were going to sleep under the Pinocchio quilt while he sang about a goodnight kiss. She was going to kiss him goodnight, his nose red from the warmth of her body.

They woke up from a dream; for two blind lovers could see not but just there eyes.