We said somewhere in the haze between friday and now that we would take a break for the work was not evolving without our somewhat steady hands and I said fine though half asleep I stayed within the prison of your arms long enough to forget what we said and now it is tuesday and i have not slept warmly for three days and the stubborness has grown a nomadic tendency and I find myself bound in your sweater sniffing ferverously to find you since I had no intention of abstaining. you had other plans for today, your major and this five page distraction from me and the lips you've honed to mine. I don't suppose the hand meandering into your boxers tonight will spell my name. the will is greater than distance and we will not walk towards each other but crawl like beetles fighting to escape from the pointed finger of a magnifying glass.
Reason for writing:
the challenge of the instant poem
Birth sign: Not entered
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