Scribbles

I want to scribble again after a period of dryness for words. Now that my daughter is eight months old, I can hear the call of ideas shouting inside my head again. Although I have not put my way of expressing a thought into practice, I’m willing to give it another shot. With a bit of luck, I wish to be enthused once more.

Friday, November 28, 2003

I sneaked behind no one knows. The time is near, Sarah.

It’s nice to play this crazy game. To hunt you where you dwell and stalk you when you walk. I do more with less talk.

You can never hide from me—behind the trees, above the roof, at the back door. My shadow will chase you.

I will crawl on the floor like a snake on prowl. Run till your knees weaken. Scream at the top of your lungs.

No one will hear you… I will be lurking in the moonless night with my body covered.

With deep fiery eyes, I will watch you.

Yes my sweet Sarah, no one can keep me from coming to you--not even him.

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