my lover is bound for me like a raindrop destined to fall for miles to land on my tongue. playing hookie this morning; i'm a clean-o-matic scrubbing floors and straightening picture frames. a clean home is a clean mind. i can't deal with work anymore, anyways. boredom sends me drifting... to housing sites and employment sites, my cursor hovering over the golden gate. i'll be sending in my application for the highway-to-hell club; tightrope bridge diving.
the law of diminishing returns.
is love the answer? i am willing to learn to enjoy the flat-line of it. to faithfully enter its temple, kneel before the goddess, pray, stand up, leave, and hope but not expect the rain to fall every time i pass through its arches.