Sunday, October 30, 2005

Stalker (slash) Street Performer

Purple is my favourite color now—and as far as I can remember I've had my eye on a particular anyone. Traversing rushing waters now, hiding in a clothes rack. Awake—walking the halls alone.

He pressed—like testing ink—Not sure. He placed his point to her—not sure if he would work. The crowd dispersed—

And I didn't just change to change—I chose the colour you preferred. You're there--particular in everything—whispering through the crowd's derange in dreams all too frequent. Awake—and I can't even think.

She shivered at the touch—what persevered? And when rusted heart revolved she wrote her name.

So find me in a crowd of one—and as far as I can remember you saw me in the corner of my eye. And trapped—particular—alone—I see the future a broken window.

I don't know any other way.


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