1.20.2008

starstruck (so bright and bitter cold)







I stuck all my stars to your wall;
they fluttered to the floor.
I remember your voice, so sure and pleading,
years ago through plastic speakers.
You sang. Green paper stars settled in my hair
like confetti. We were late.
I stepped from beneath the steady stream of longing then,
constellations of regret in my wake.

1 comment:

P said...

That reminds me of something that makes me wistful.


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