Why do I still see you in every mirrored window, in all that I could never overcome? How I don't know what I should do with my hands when I talk to you. How you don't know where you should look, so you look at my hands. How movements rise and then dissolve, melted by our shallow breath. How causes dance away from me.
"All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses, his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind." - Karl Marx and Frederick Engels
That's so perfect, it makes me want to die.
"All that is solid melts into air, all that is holy is profaned, and man is at last compelled to face with sober senses, his real conditions of life, and his relations with his kind." - Karl Marx and Frederick Engels
That's so perfect, it makes me want to die.
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Rest on my amorous heart,
And let me plunge into your marvellous eyes,
Of mingled metal and agate.
When my fingers caress at leisure
your supple, elastic back,
And my hand tingles with pleasure
From your body's electric contact,"
[Excerpt from "The Cat" by Charles Baudelaire
I e-mailed the guys at Thrice about your ticket.. said they'd see what they could do.. but couldn't promise anything..
[was going to see if you wanted to see Revolutions this Sat. but never got a chance to ask you before you logged off..
[Edited on Nov 08, 2003 8:18AM]