Friday, April 29, 2011

slightly ajar

you are
a slip of paper
that i won't
chase,
a white thin
strip caught
in the breeze
of a blue
morning sky.
your name, your
voice,
your slender
life, and eyes.
there is enough
on my plate,
enough to keep
me safe,
keep me home,
with heart
in tact, but
i'll leave
the window
open just in case
for no reason
you decide
to blow
yourself in.

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