

Wooed with wordsI could be wooed with words; I know I could. I cant think of a thing I could not forgive If you wrote me a sonnet the way Will would... If through words you would make me live. If you were a master of metre and rhyme I would be at your feet in a beat. Make me dance to your song, make me keep your time, Let your words be the drug that I need. If you sang an elegy like Poe on my grave, I believe I would die for you. And whatever abuse and bad words you gave, If you rhymed them, Id love them, too. Spread a blanket of blank verse over my eyes It would coverWooed with words


So There She LaySo there she lay, her porcelain skin pale against the dark linen. Her eyes were closed, as if to seal off her thoughts from his gaze, blond lashes like curtains over the windows of her soul. He leaned at the door, sweetening his steaming coffee with her image. There had only been enough for one cup, but he knew she wouldnt mind, he knew she wouldnt have wanted coffee anyway, even if he had asked, even if shed been awake.So There She Lay
He had to smile. Wasnt it strange how intimately he seemed to know her, already, after the first night they had ever spent together? But it had always been like that. There were people wit


A Letter of GoodbyeI am watching you... You cannot see me, but I can see you through this colourful nothing of a silk curtain. I am watching you while I am crouching on the floor, writing this letter my last one. I have always watched you when you were down there, talking to your friends and business associates. Women see more than men can know, and I have learned more about you by watching silently than by talking to you. Men do not know how to talk to women. You either treat us as children or as another species and we are neither. We are like you, only different.A Letter of Goodbye
And now I am watching you, as you gently stir the poison into my cup.


HomesickLass sie nicht sehen, wie du blinzelst So sagte meine Mutter, sieh, warum Es mir unangenehm ist auszugehen wenn meine Augen trocken sind Ich habe kein Geschick mit Pinseln. Die Farben Trocknen aus und verschütten sich, glänzend wie Gischt auf den Felsen; Der Lehrer streicht mir den Schimmer weg Von den nackten Armen. Die Kinder flüsternHomesick
Hinter den Armen des Seesterns. Sie gehen zum Spielen In den sonnigen und warmen Garten, aber ich bleibe hier, wie Mama
Es mir gesagt hat. Unter dem Fenster ist ein Aquarium Voller goldener Fische, die umherjagen, ständig,


Fractions of Infinity"******, is it?" she said. "That's an unusual name."Fractions of Infinity
It was strange to hear this woman say my name. Not the words themselves -I had become used to hearing people say it was a odd name- but the way she said it. I couldn't put my finger on it, but hearing her voice was like picturing a snake in the tall grass: coiled and ready to strike. Each word was the gleam of a cold eye, each inflection the quick dart of a tounge. Prodding. Probing.
Tasting.
I snuck a glance at the swell of her breasts, nestled in the white fabric. She caught me staring and I quickly looked away. She smiled, then, revealing perfectly
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