talking_in_bed Death of a Rose Talking in bed ought to be easiest, Lying together there goes back so far, An emblem of two people being honest. Yet more and more time passes silently. Outside, the wind's incomplete unrest Builds and disperses clouds about the sky. And dark towns heap up on the horizon. None of this cares for us. Nothing shows why At this unique distance from isolation It becomes still more difficult to find Words at once true and kind, Or not untrue and not unkind. Philip Larken (1922 - 1985) . 040831 ... suicidalchinadoll they always seem to leave.. before I awake stealing away in the night, as though they had taken something I gave unwillingly.. never understanding..that all I really wanted was to see someone still there upon waking.. 040831 ... Death of a Rose her lips brushed the pillow case, as if she could not raise her head to make clear her utterances, spending all her energy in issuing her thoughts across the cloth expanse towards my ears, which upon reflection were being lulled to an uneasy sleep, her craft well below the water's surface, the jolt and grain of a summer tempest. I could but flinch in the beginning of my unending slumber. 040901 ... suicidalchinadoll slumber interrupted.. I had bad bad dreams last night.. I watched someone dear to me burn..literally..in some self conceived hell. I dearly hope its not another fucking premonition. 050616 ... nomme) talking in my sleep 050617 ... the night star awkward words, necessary words to try to bridge between one state and another, or to rebuild the bridge that we burnt so beautifully the night before. sometimes the bridge is lost forever. at others, it is built gilded, and glows. it's strange, it's lovely, it's sound. the wind may rustle by outside, but it gives more reason to stay, talking in bed. 070124 ... pete talking, perhaps, but surely not to myself? 070202 what's it to you? who go blather from