And as the clock struck midnight,
I knew from the first chime...

Your voice whispers over the phone
The need in your voice, strong...

The wind teases the tendrils of my hair
Whipping them around in the breeze...

Unadorned lettering
And ragged cover...

This might not make much sense to you,
It barely makes any sense in my head...

The pebbles lie,
In different positions...

To dream of wanting,
is to dream of great disappointment...

I had opened my eyes to him.
I had saw who he was...

When I close my eyes;
I dream of wings of feathers...

I know his smile,
Better than people think...

He is probably sitting at home,
Tearing off the tabs of them Miller Beer cans...

The stillness of an autumn night
The magnificence of a fall night sky...