08-01-2006:

I linger there, where the earth sighs: night
you don't write, you don't call ... and I miss you. Your words are the much anticipated rain after an arduous drought, your laughter voluptuous drops on my parched throat.
I attempt to recall the innocence of childhood ... the pureness, the bliss of being present in only the moment for lack of knowledge of anything else: unencumbered by notions of right or wrong, impressions or opinions. Before a rift forms between our heart and our words ... my hands extended across space, fingers in the wind, children know...
I love you because you smell of childhood ... eternal ... single ... one and everything.