I came in from a walk
Pouring, soaking walk, on the most miserable of a headaches' day
Your face was washed from my mind, the closing, and my walking away
My fingers still wrinkled, my skin rubbery and soft
The downpours never relenting in the search for what I've lost
For it is not you...it is me
Completely, desecrated and simply me
With my pruning blue face, puddle soaked feet
so different from what you see...but what you've known
What you've known hasn't left
But despicably, you have
And now I must dry off
(poem is incomplete-featured in0-Calico and Graffiti-release date 10/26/10)
