these are my last memories of you. intermittent hammering against hard rock. we, trapped in a cottony globe me, trying to find touchy subjects to breach only to mimic a feeling of closeness; you, jogging backwards, you, jogging backwards, telling me not to turn my back on the ocean. and us, in these last days of summer and youth, reliving old habits and continuing old processes, just to be broken; forgotten; misplaced. it is on such nights that time is absurd but painfully, painfully relevant. and it's on these nights that breathing is nothing, and nothing is forgettable, so i forgot to breathe all night. hammering memories, creating repetition: i am weary of this hard rock. - bronnie _______________________________________________ Five7Five mailing list [EMAIL PROTECTED] http://www.pairlist.net/mailman/listinfo/five7five
