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July 18, 2003

Yesterday, I was the fly spying outside your window.
I was the captain of the plane that took your father overseas.
Today, I am ninety-nine point nine percent of your thoughts.
Tomorrow, I will be one-tenth of one percent.
I stumble over memories of a past not yet manifest.
And I wonder if I cannot write prose anymore because of you.

Posted by Rashid on December 19, 2005 5:00 AM

Comments

Commented by my truth on December 20, 2005 3:44 AM

Commented by karamale on December 20, 2005 7:57 AM

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