Wednesday, December 19, 2007



There are times when one sees
that many things may happen,
and the time when one sees that not all things will happen
comes when it does and not when one is wanting it.
There are edges to things.
There are squares, circles, cliques, and webs.
All of them have form, and what is form
but the decision of something
to be this and not that.


A poem about unrequited love, surprisingly enough.

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