Quid Pro Quo
There was a neat pride in the way that he talked.
But humbled, like the moon crossing - a tree’s shadow.
He would hold a conversation
The way my girlfriends’ winking wine would not.
He was older,
But not in a way that overdressed the milkiness of salad
He was older,
In a way that time affected
but not the makeup clothed upon the mind.
There was a neat pride in the way that he talked.
But humbled, like the moon crossing - a tree’s shadow.
He would hold a conversation
The way my girlfriends’ winking wine would not.
He was older,
But not in a way that overdressed the milkiness of salad
He was older,
In a way that time affected
but not the makeup clothed upon the mind.
...
I wrote this in the summer of 2003. Amazing how time passes.
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