the peephole in the center of my door bleeds ice cold lite into my warm hole nest
im tired of not being alone
im tired of having to choose to be alone
giv me strangers skipping wildly inside the speakers on my desk
leave me here with ancient monologues of lov and entrapment
find me asleep with gods i do not kno and many open windos for dearest frinds.
sept 2 2004
the peephole
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