the subtle light of dawn shows outside my motorhome – outside the tiny holes I see through the blinds, outside.
blood & flesh, I am still that. Blood, flesh, and failing candlelight eyes. I read the words I once wrote, will write again – the heart has not changed.
She is out there, somewhere. She. She who just might actually be able to love me for all that I am, all I am not. I live the life of a hopefull romantic, waking dreams of exploring the world we will call ours. A thousand words said in a crooked-smile, knowing glance. Into eyes that have seen everything yet somehow are not bored with me.
All of what I had went to getting this home to roll. Not even ten days into the month and all the money is gone. I wonder why I keep hoping that CultureFlux might get something without begging, but I do.
Back to sleep.