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the word whisperer

Thursday, March 16, 2006


I sit by the fireplace, typing on my laptop to the crackle of wood. I think of you; perhaps, far away across the ocean, you are thinking of me, too. Warmth spreads over my limbs and my toes. I do not move for fear that my dream will fly up into the chimney, and disperse amidst the stars.

Silence in the room, I notice the curtains open. The tall windows are hauntingly black; I hate that, but I am too lazy to get up. What if someone is watching me? I freeze, but then imagine you peeking in, smiling at me, and I beckon you, overjoyed to have a visitor this lonely evening.

The coals shift and, too soon, I am awoken from the reverie. I watch the tongues flicker and the smoke waver. Sighing, I blow a kiss to the fire.

Catch it, darling, from the stars, and may it bring you peace.


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