By sinneD
Date: 22 May 1999

Another Story

pages of a love I used to long for
are blowing in the wind
like floating dust,
but I don't
feel so
empty.

ancient episodes come tumbling down
like autumn leaves to kiss
the ground, ready to
be gathered and
burned to
ashes.

love is healing the wounds that it itself inflicted,
writing a new story with it's soothing
loving hands, through the
heart of someone
who found the
time to care
for me;
you.

And I love you too...



sinned.dennis@usa.net
    (for liberty...)