blondenarcissa @ 2003-08-10 13:00:00

Current mood: pensive

It is 1 pm and I do not know where my husband is. This is just as well as I have taken the liberty to browsing through some literary works in his library and should not like to be disturbed. After finishing the book that Hera had gifted me yesterday and finding that lovely, striking poem unexpectedly with it, I have had an overwhelming desire to read even more poetry. Lucius has always had a fondness for books and the library in the Manor has volume upon volume of poetry, for which I am grateful.

I've just finished perusing a thin, leatherbound book in which the following was penned:

traffic rolls by the crosswalk
unaware
of my soul
shattered
seeping slowly to
inviting cracks on the pavement
which mingle with salty white-hot tears

soundless words form on your guilt-ridden lips
i understand
every
noiseless
expression

i look to
soak every sensation in
as though
perhaps
this paused moment
is only figment
not fact

your eyes tell me otherwise</font>

I do wonder what the poor darling in the poem is talking about. I should like to know what wrong had been done to her, although I do have several ideas of my own, many of which I can empathize. Scenarios as those are very trying, after all.

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