Thursday, October 17, 2002

Long time since I felt my head held. If this feels good, this must be good.
How long can I float? As long as I want to, I guess. As long as the air feels good and the lungs breathe deep.
In an oscillating world of random rhythms, some sound good. This one sure does.

Wasn't free fall. Just some burden off the lightness of being.
If I'm writing again, this must be extra good.
My eyes have grown wings. And I'll hold them to their promise of flight.
Through cheap thrills and fleeting touches, I have straightened up to walk tall.
Spine, don't fail me now.

It's raining.Baby showers. Clear light. And the safety of the world and its day.
And a city morning.