mclose's profile

My socks refuse to stay in pairs The radios are out of tune The sky won't bear the weight of its clouds The earth runs circles around the moon. Without you here nothing makes sense The primes are all dividing by two. My shoes won't stay on the right feet Because all I can think of is you. My dear this world has smashed logic to pieces Nine insists upon following ten. And though the sun simply won't rise in your absence It will put itself right when I see you again.

returning waters i am no rock, but an ocean wave, my life not the steady solid of stone but the back and forth ebbing of waters unsure, pulled to your coasts and back again by clashing tides of faith and doubt. i am the prodigal, the thomas, the eve and though there are some who have walked upon water i haven't the power to ward away doubt- only enough to return to your banks. still, though i won't claim the faith of the rock that unwaveringly shouts your word from the shore it is with the tr...

I looked for you again today Though I knew it'd come to no good. I walked the sidewalks where we walked And under your window I stood. I promise myself and I promise again To forget these memories of you. They twist and burn and whisper sweet pain They won't let die what I once knew to be true. But if I stayed here under your window Night upon night for year upon year I don't think that I'd miss any less The soft light of your eyes on mine, so near. And though I might promise again and again ...

returning waters i am no rock, but an ocean wave, my life not the steady solid of stone but the back and forth ebbing of waters unsure, pulled to your coasts and back again by clashing tides of faith and doubt. i am the prodigal, the thomas, the eve and though there are some who have walked upon water i haven't the power to ward away doubt- only enough to return to your banks. still, though i won't claim the faith of the rock that unwaveringly shouts your word from the shore i think perhaps t...

footsteps this old staircase upward has seen many years pounding many feet hurridly or slowly traipsing downward the carpeted steps once white and untouched are now worn and gray they (and perhaps they alone) mark the passing of time in this house and they've grown grayer and grayer with the years and with the cadence of footsteps which has thundered or pattered down these steps and out the door for the last time.