from my journal, 1:30am, Thanksgiving morning:
i woke to the low groan of the revelers next door and the dull throb of my intestines, cold from a nightmare i can't remember and plagued by thoughts of a woman i was almost tired of waiting for.
i heard her voice in that low groan; i felt her in that dull throb.
i wondered why she hadn't answered the phone and what had kept me waiting so long.
i'm too old for these games; i do not need these insomnias.
and when i wake [tomorrow] i know that the moon will be new and missing, just like this feeling inside.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
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When awakened into the sleep...
ReplyDeleteKnowing the dream can be real.
Who wrote the comment ablove dear Govinda?
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