Friday, August 13, 2010


I used to imagine my room a tower
me a princess enslaved
and out there lovely meadows
till the cliffs met the sea
and no one to question
who I am as me
as I sit here watching the radio towers
that blink on my slow rivers
that may one day find the sea
I have loved my own words
better than life itself
and I find no reflection of
what I have understood
in what I meant

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