Wednesday, April 14, 2004

Phobia

Don’t look my way
Don’t blink an eye
Don’t breathe out for then
I’ll have to breathe you in
If you accidentally
Brush up against me
I will have to carry you
With me throughout the day
If you speak to me
You will become a part of
Of my life
My life, where there is no
Room for your breath
Your stares
Your touch.