Tuesday, February 26, 2008 10:23 PM
it's a private sense of shame.
one so subtle, that it's rising up goes unnoticed.
welling up gently like the gathering of dewdrops,
it strikes: dripping off the leaf,
falling,
hurling,
hurtling.
the tangent curve rising beyond imagination, barely separated from the asymptote, spinning
out of control.
maybe you don't notice it
but i do
cos i have to live with it
