Como luceros fríos

Sobre el olivar hay un cielo hundido y una lluvia oscura de luceros fríos.

31 March, 2008

I had a dream last night that we were on the roof. It was kind of like my old house in Mount Pleasant in DC, there was a trapdoor you could climb up and get out onto the roof and it was nice. Our shoes were crunching the gravel up there, and it was night time. Just a little cool out, so I was shivering and you were saying how it would be perfect if the temperature dropped like fifteen degrees, so that you could wear a sweater. We talked and we talked and you held my hand and, like always, I marveled over how your hand could just engulf mine.

I have the stupidest dreams.

I found my guru on youtube. He looks so old now. And I can't believe how much I miss him.

I don't know how many fucking times I can lose everything.

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