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Name: angel
Country: United States
State: Texas
Interests: wabbit hunting, maddawging, random projects, wisecracks, le privilege, candy, sorority girls.
Expertise: cloud patterns, justification, bs
Industry: Banking/Finance
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/31/2003
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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| coming home tonight! i love austin forever and ever.
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| You guessed it, Don. The lyrics are for you. Please don't go to Africa and leave me standing here with nothing left to remind me but the memory of your face.
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| How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace
When I stand here taking every breath with you,
You’re the only one who really knew me at all
How can you just walk away from me,
When all I can do is watch you leave
Cos we’ve shared the laughter and the pain and even shared the tears
You’re the only one who really knew me at all
So take a look at me now, oh there’s just an empty space
And there’s nothing left here to remind me,
Just the memory of your face
Take a look at me now, well there’s just an empty space
And you coming back to me is against all odds and that’s what I’ve got to face
I wish I could just make you turn around,
Turn around and see me cry
There’s so much I need to say to you,
So many reasons why
You’re the only one who really knew me at all
So take a look at me now, well there’s just an empty space
And there’s nothing left here to remind me, just the memory of your face
Now take a look at me now, cos there’s just an empty space
But to wait for you, is all I can do and that’s what I’ve got to face
Take a good look at me now, cos I’ll still be standing here
And you coming back to me is against all odds
It’s the chance I’ve gotta take
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| my favorite picture EV-ER
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| I wake up in your bed. I know I have been dreaming.
Much earlier, the alarm broke us from each other,
you've been at your desk for hours. I know what I dreamed:
our friend the poet comes into my room
where I've been writing for days,
drafts, carbons, poems are scattered everywhere,
and I want to show her one poem
which is the poem of my life. But I hesitate,
and wake. You've kissed my hair
to wake me. I dreamed you were a poem,
I say, a poem I wanted to show someone . . .
and I laugh and fall dreaming again
of the desire to show you to everyone I love,
to move openly together
in the pull of gravity, which is not simple,
which carried the feathered grass a long way down the upbreathing air.
Adrieene Rich. Fabulous. | | |
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