The Grass is Black/The Air is Pink


feel me/read me/follow me

Meditation on a Sunday

No, it does’nt make sense
why we do the things that we do
why we kiss
why we touch
why we love who we love

the reasons can not be explained
to you
to me or
to anyone else

I wonder
when these vicious cycles
of love, infatuation and affection and leaving us to crawl back into our caves
and die
in peace, dreaming about the lives
that we never actually lived

(written: April 11, 2010)

Posted with WordPress for BlackBerry.


Filed under: that crazy,little thing called love,

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