LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth |
CAMP Poetry |
TRAVELING
Do you have any idea What you mean to me Because I surely don't And I never want to All I want is a smeary sense Of what you are Like the only lamp on In a room I have no chance at all Of being equal Especially when you stutter Or are not here Or when you sit down alone to read Everything I'll most likely do Started near your nose And I still just can't believe How split you've made me feel Like water in a fountain Promise me this at least Promise me that for as long as can be I won't get anywhere close To the very top of you |
LETTERS From CAMP Rehoboth, Vol. 10, No. 8, June 30, 2000. |