Wednesday, June 20, 2012

Out of reach

I'm searching for something.

It turns from me like these flowers and dissapears into the light as if to tease. 

A voice inside says, "don't give up", so I don't.

The flower shows it's yellow middle to someone else and I am jealous.

I fight with the spider at the bottom.

Or run from it.

But I leave the flower in the dust so I turn back.

And start over.

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