melancholy, black pen
Tonight I had some late dinner. I read through the pages of a basketball magazine. It's late night now and here I am, hoping to find traces of you.
I liked Kowloon Park and my position on the bench and that field day I had taking snapshots of passers-by. I liked it better when it was night when we were talking and opening gifts together.
The desklamp is the only spot of light in my room. Like a tiny flame dancing atop the candle it's pulling shadows out of me.
I liked Kowloon Park and my position on the bench and that field day I had taking snapshots of passers-by. I liked it better when it was night when we were talking and opening gifts together.
The desklamp is the only spot of light in my room. Like a tiny flame dancing atop the candle it's pulling shadows out of me.
posted by Adam C at
12:33 PM
1 Comments:
Hope it was a happy face under the lamp light.
BTW, I like the metaphor you used -dancing atop the candle...I am thinking...a shadow of music box dancer who is dancing in your room elegantly with her tip of toes.
By
Oy, at 9:24 AM
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