Thursday, December 30, 2004

You see, there's this guy...

The last time I let myself flutter:
pregnant hope billowed out big as a sail,
rocked playfully on the waves of possibility and flirting,
swoopingly, swoopingly.

But it ended with a SPLAT:
glistening raw redness of a watermelon
cruelly lurched from the back of a truck.

Again?

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