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Apr 23, 2010
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the distance to the door
In these vague unkempt days
wandering between sunsets
and remote longings
of late unsatisfied yesterdays.
I thought I caught a glimpse
of you laughing, flying unexpected
between lines
by Mikhail Bulgakov.
In the jacket that you gave me
at eighteen below zero
my scalp tightening on my skull,
I find your scent still lingers
in its folds.
Within my landscape of rooms
with its autumn litterings of books,
where my clothes lie
topographic, like islands
contoured on a floor,
I measure only
the distance to your door.
wandering between sunsets
and remote longings
of late unsatisfied yesterdays.
I thought I caught a glimpse
of you laughing, flying unexpected
between lines
by Mikhail Bulgakov.
In the jacket that you gave me
at eighteen below zero
my scalp tightening on my skull,
I find your scent still lingers
in its folds.
Within my landscape of rooms
with its autumn litterings of books,
where my clothes lie
topographic, like islands
contoured on a floor,
I measure only
the distance to your door.
— Craig Norris, Apr 23, 2010
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Critiques
Worldwide Freeride
16 years 1 month ago
Hi Craig!
Craig Norris
16 years 1 month ago
dear Dale
loved
16 years ago
the distance
Craig Norris
16 years ago
thank you
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