I'll whisper secrets to those
who can't hear,
watch them crystalize
and drop,
soundlessly,
to the
ground
crash into a million
pieces,
and leave them,
never to be
remembered.
Friday, August 24, 2007
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Like a weaver weaves thread to create a beautiful rug, I'd like to think that I can weave words to create a beautiful picture that varies with each person that reads them. Here are my word-pictures.
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