(no subject)

I have swallowed pale stones.

 

the first time we made love, i: i wasn't sober.
(and you told me you loved me over and over!)
how could i ever love another, when i miss you every day:

remember the time we made love in the roses?
(and you took my picture in all sorts of poses!)
how could i ever get over you, when i'd give my life for yours.

 

I want to go home.

yup - still me

http://www.livejournal.com/users/porphyre/35978.html?nc=2

this is for me: archivists

I've nothing better to do than go through and read my old journal entries.

( Some of the pieces and bits are lovely. )