tears

i drew on the steamed window today
a single heart with an arrow through it
like the hearts i would draw on your many letters;
however, the trail i left on the pane
from tracing this heart
slowly trickled a thin path of water down
the window pane as my tears trickle a path
down the window pane of my sad little face.

"down the window pane"
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
13jan06

she hooked herself to the moon
so that she may drift away
into the night.
when she whispers,
it is the breath of night
that now responds
not the full rich voice of him
that is saved for the earth
which she is no longer a part of.

"no longer a part of"
`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
13jan06