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From:  teredd@u... 
Date:  Tue Dec 3, 2002  8:15 pm 
Subject:  where do they go?

A cough..

The soft piano plays quietly in the static background.

Often than not, you remember.
She takes your hand as you walk through the shop.
Strange people milling about, checking the wares.
The blind man at the counter, a puerto-rican kid
standing over him in the walls.
You sign hello, your hands not much bigger than the
child's.
You move on, watching the rope in the waves.

And it lingers, the cold, the static, the breath in your
lungs.


Breathe in, her aura flows about you.


Breathe out, the empty park she left you in.


The burns, the sun is coming.


Wake up and speak of loneliness.


Fall asleep and dream of the warmth,
and the juice on her lips.

[ooc: 9910120-us2002022326]