The finest thing that could
be said about love
is that it's
paradoxical, and shamelessly so --
that we earn it
by losing it.
I think the stuff
must be as
irrepressible as the grass
I'll one day be
buried under.
This one gal brought me this far
and changed me, just so
this other could
find me and recognize me.
Tell me more about the honey,
I think it has plans for us.
Friday, February 26, 2010
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