the fresh paint we stuck to the ceiling drips to the drain.
it could swirl away to somewhere we'll never have a chance to see.
needlessly following them to know where they're going.
we shouldn't taint the water to know where it's flowing to, and springing from.
back and forth, when we could soak in something new.
bright peaking through the canopy, bending into new lengths.
colors you'd never even conceived of.
waking to the brilliance that everyone dreams of.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
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