a fragment:
"A softness of beauty that wells into a glow when I am near you..."
(Found on a scribble in my files)
Angel walk by
lend yourself to my dreams
stardust
gleam in your eye
is it not what it seems?
From the Files
(Written in scribbles on an Elliot Bay Bookstore newspaper dated Summer 1991)
I was standing at the bus stop, trying to stop time
simply with the sternness the look on my face.
No one noticed but a young girl, I saw her smiling
at me in the corner of my eye. I couldn't
acknowledge it, though. This is the nineties
and such things bring one to public disgrace.
Trying to stop time by the sternness of my face.
Why? Couldn't the world stop turning long enough
for me to solve all its problems before she continued?
Here I was, my face was quite stern,
and you sailed by throttling the enormous pedals
of your bicycle. You stopped time for me,
and melted the rough edges of my face into a smile.
