The air is still,
And I can't breathe in anything but the scent of your cologne hanging in the air.
The sky is black now,
And the clouds are overflowing in their misery.
The dancer falls to her weakening feet,
As the curtain drops the way she is soon to be.
The shinny reflection of his face,
Now rippling like silk as the lonely frog strolls from each lilly.

03/06/2002

Posted on 03/06/2002
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