Post-Modern Drunk: Love Seven of Pentacles
[I just want to point out to those stepping in mid-reel, this is a parody. I don't actually write like this, most of the time.]

Love.

My lover.

Will you remain ever thus?

Why must we do this? A crossroads, we have arrived at. Let us survey, assay--our fruits let us count.

My stars, they were not prepared to mix with yours. No constellation could we make, but oh the drift, the drift, it brings us together. Dare we commingle our essence again, dear lover?

The pain between us, legendary in scope and in form, leads us to here. We've gone down to the crossroads. Time, effort, pain, loss, love, here we are. The crazy. Time out, we are here, let us contemplate and aim our cars down the new path our lives together might take. Life together? Can I be so bold?

Our game sits, holds, waits, for a short moment. Oh my lover, must we continue this charade? Must we remain apart? My dear, we must learn our lesson, our struggle must not be for naught.

Help is on the way. Love is on the march. The crazy, oh, the crazy, shall we recapture the crazy, my love?

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i keep thinking today is friday random ten (2/2/06)				ogling the passers-by

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