She...
She strolls along the deserted streets Waiting for some forgotten stranger to meet She dresses all in black And speaks silently She looks, but never quite finds All that she needs She treads the untested waters In the cold, blue sea She fumbles with the secrets Held deep inside, unseen She makes contact With the vast, wide eternity She stoops in the hidden caves Down low, cowardly She blooms dead roses Then stores them away in me Written October 13th, 2001 © on Oct 13 2001 02:44 PM PST 0 • 10
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"She strolls along the deserted streets..."