.the lady  

angelwoarose 42F
211 posts
1/20/2006 11:38 am

Last Read:
3/5/2006 9:27 pm

.the lady

.the lady

.The lady I know waits with often glazed awareness, muted colors, and a blunted sense, inching toward something better. Shadows fade the grandure once waiting around the corner, etched in her mind's eye from so many blind glances late at night- night comes morning unto night again, waiting for something or someone, other than the suffocation that comes with dissapointment and boredom as company.


.a sulfer laden matchhead ignites somewhere distant and cold, and burns down the compressed wood, drinking it as fuel, running earthward until the ember that remains floats past a nearby dust stricken cobweb, and a torch is born.


.blinking gets dull as even memories fade to myth from other, better, not better, but different times leaving behind excrutiating peace and ... fire.


.her finger blackens with a dot of soot leaving no trace of the match but the smell of fire wafts uncontrolably into her lungs as spiders scury from their burning home and food, already contemplating rebuilding.


.she exits, burnt, but ready.

A friend that knows me very well wrote this for me.....

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