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Behind the town where the sky bends and blue hangs its crystalloid breath as ornaments in the tree it thinks my hair is; I stand with my hands deep in mittens avoiding growing up; tracing my name in the stars in the morning sky. Twinkle twinkle, mine is.mine is a bigger bright than yours. . How Rude! - Wednesday, Sept. 22, 2004 - 12:16 PM One small step but no giant leap. - Tuesday, Sept. 30, 2003 - 11:17 AM Where's George? - Thursday, Sept. 25, 2003 - 12:48 PM |
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a Nifty design 
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