I don't even need the answers to the questions I pose
I find them in the prose you wrote in my dreams.
Each message not so clear and concise
but I dream through the night,
and then I think all day
to decode what you have said.
Is it any wonder I wake up depressed,
but in hearing from you, prefer my bed?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Might As Well Have Been A Dream He Thought (Sept 2008)
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