Mr. Malcolm and his never coming entrance.
spent the day in sunshine and shade with ducks to spare.
and a few t-shirtless boys whos names i don't know and whos eyes didn't seem to glance my way
except for maybe once.
and sand on toes makes manufactured dreams of a beach and an ocean;
but, unlike faith, weight weighs heavily in my heart
it is time for a new start and new number count.
it is summer
and i am happy.
with my best friend and photographs and pretty faces and sleeping in and eating a lot.
poetry can go commit suicide;words need not have an implication in my life.
i had a wonderful day.
it is good to be back
it is good to be home
--fiona
| | everyOU (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.2){kind=small} paper_ideas) wrote, |
don't you love my mis spelt words
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