othelladub's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- quarter-mile Greenwalking through Robinsons-May, Clyde encountered the dog flack-dust, flaking on his skin like a sad rush of dry bark. Hot wheels in the water, gold nylon in the crotch - ashes; memories blown from the east wind lucky minor roughness ended soon, and the sweetness began she told me the sky was ours we caught the wind, as the peak of the castle came upon the horizon her yellow goggles shined and a smile displayed her beauty hair tied back, nose smooth - with a crest that made me weak her mind displayed through her physical gestures - at home, hair spilling through the light onto me the story of how I feel at night joined with opinions that take me elsewhere 5:04 p.m. - 2001-10-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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