Thursday, April 28, 2005


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Sometimes it is just that darkness that holds the spark on the surface of the eye. It pools, liquid velvet, black, deep, some warm bed for that hot white fire that emmanates from deep within. The spark grabs me by the collar, yanks me to awareness of his eyes. "I am here"...and my inner shutter clicks and clicks, trying to preserve this moment, as he moves on. Never to be seen again.


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