Saturday, February 9, 2013

o ( + >

He realized that she was new to love, naive in every way. Every school boy's* fantasy she was. That's why he had to wait. If he poured his "heart" into and offered it like wine, she could drink and be back in time for the Morning Papers

They could take a walk down the oceanside. They could wish on every wave. They could find a carousel and ride or kiss in every cave. They could contemplate the entire universe or just one star. Just how far was a walk for the Morning Papers?

Why is age more than a number when it comes to love? Should we ask the ones who speculate when they don't know what it's made of? Should we ask the moon light on your face or the rain drops in your hair? Or should we ask the man who wrote it there in the Morning Papers?