Archive 06/20/10

   

Two Kids

                                                                  

I feel like I'm away from home

And on my own

For the very first time in my life.

What a rare sense of carefree freedom,

To be with you, just the two of us, alone, together,

For whenever, whatever, wherever

We choose to go, to do, to be,

In New York City's thieves' market of opportunities,

Pleasures, indulgences, beguilements, delights —

Two kids who've run away from home,

To elope or just stray for a day,

On the hope that it might last the rest of our lives.

 

 

 

 

 

                               

 

06/20/10

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 
 
 
 
       

 

 
   
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