what we bear January 01, 2005 saturday - 01:53 there are long stretches of time; hours and moments pile atop each other, and meaning blurs - it is late, it is time for bed, give me two hours, deadline, half a day, clocks, schedules, night, just a minute - and then for it is not time that we want to stop, that we fear, but its passing. so easy to forget? i float, and i wage empty wars. diaryland | archive | newest entry | profile
|