Mar 19, 2007 23:34
I say, and so say I
my morning thought
it knew itself just fine
until across the room
it caught its first glimpse of my afternoon.
How can it be
that these things live in me?
I say, and so say I
my morning's day seems nothing like its night.
My night, so self assured
was all at sea when faced with dawn's strange world.
How can it be
that these things live in me?