Beautiful things

Thursday, February 11, 2010


Listen to the Warm

By Rod McKuen

I live alone. It hasn't always been that way. It's nice sometimes             
 to open up the heart a little and let some hurt come in. It proves 
you're still alive.  I'm not sure what it means. Why we cannot 
shake the old loves from out minds. It must be that we build 
on memory and make them more that what they were.                      
And is the manufacture just a safe device for closing up the wall?  
I do remember. The only fuzzy circumstance  is something 
where-and how. 
Why, I know. It happens just because we need to want and to be 
wanted too, when love is here  or gone to lie down in the darkness                       
 and listen to the warm. 

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