there

We sat and we looked at eachothers eyes, occasionally she would mutter something in french and then flick my shirt pocket to remind me that I would turn into my father eventually, spoke of her travels, I watched her as she got up, delicate, made me want to touch but I knowed it to be wrong, Tell myself that the time will come, speak, get up, walk about the room, dimly lit, wishing it could last but knowing it wouldn't, "it's late, should I go?" I asked, but she wanted me to stay and I did and we talked and I grew more involved in her lip movements and how she pulled her hair up and stuck a pencil in it only to let it right back down, earth beauty, the one, she was but mist lingering in a valley and the sun rose and she was gone, never to be seen again

 

wow, that was intriguing.

 

hm. that was really good. painted a clear picture with the words you used. i liked it

 

longing. it's a beautiful thing, even when it hurts the most.

 

It started beautifully, ended with a nice almost-cliche, but you lost my attention around the middle of the piece.

 

enjoyed this one, good spoken word vibe and technique. especially liked the rhymes occuring in an odd timing, kept the drive going. thanks for sharing this one!