Absinthe

I see silence

You taught me not to feel ashamed by our fallibility, that quintessential fault and perfection that brings our silences... not unlike when our teeth clashed when we kissed for the first time.

And now when I crush my hand around one of the sun-bright butterflies I can feel the life juices coming out of it, and as a matter of broken magic it appears dead in my hand.

I've become a conjuror of reality, as it has always been.

publicadas por Germán @ 3/10/2007 06:08:00 a.m.