I just experienced the realization, that walking alone just isn't romantic anymore. I put each foot in front of its only friend, imagining that someone watches me walk, that someone wants to discover my destination. I don't know where it is, but suddenly I notice; I am near your door. Time burns slowly down. Cigarette smoulders along with it, as thoughts drift through muddy curtains of doubt: I wonder if love affairs are equivilent to mopping the floor on a rainy day? I have discovered so many things in so few years, and still there is so much left. There must be, or I'd just stop walking one day. I have taken many steps through life, and I have stepped in many puddles, and tonight I think I'll stop by. I'll take my boots off first.
(c) 1995 john garnett drummond
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