Scrapbook

By Kitt

"I want to die holding your hand but not yet..."

I wrote that to you once somewhere on a charred scarred letter of 13th century parchment in the rain under the stars before my letter became a song and my song became our tragedy. My oh so unprecise love, our unrelinquished devotion. The never ending story that died last December.
Ink runs dry.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2005 Kitt
Published on Thursday, January 20, 2005.     Filed under:
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