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Saturday, April 14, 2007'♥

-her grey skein sack-


In the grey skein sack, there are -
Time-worn keepsakes and expired kisses of days of old.

Now, it's all but -
A familiarity and nostagia she no longer remembers.

In the grey skein sack, there lies -
Traces of love on ink and dust, yellowed and torn in the silver of time.

Now , it's all but-
A broken tapestry of displaced dreams and promises she no longer reads.

In the grey skein sack, there hides-
Broken backs and candles of old kings and forgotten romance.

Now,it's all but -
A ancient game of exhausted pawns and deceit , she no longer plays.

In the grey skein sack, it holds-
Of memories who she was , what was and never meant to be,

Now , it all but-
A sack of dust and ash on the road,begging for amnesty against its cremation .

goodbye.
begone now.
forever.

1:34 PM








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eloera jesusa woon.

she paints skins of whom she has never known, and may never be.
she fortifies , she preserves - of what time has taken.
she dances in the silvers of her moonlight ,
with this cacophany of noises,with these falsities -they lead her hand. //

the facades that she hide behind, the facets of her life.she is but the master of puppetry.

-


Photolog

e-eipiphany

musings







proletariat

theng. yy. greg. elvin. weidong. leong.s shan. mich. sharon. nana. huisien.


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