Love under an umbrella

In front of the mirror. Studying the deep folds on my forehead. Trying to see somekind of a future in them, just like a gipsywoman.

The clock strikes seven in my livingroom, but my body tells me that it is time for sex.

Its raining.

I'm opening my umbrella, hoping to share it with someone.

But first:

I have to dare meeting the crowd out there...

Poetry by Leif H T Strand
Read 773 times
Written on 2006-10-24 at 16:45

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betsy Firefly
An umbrella sure is a handy thing! Use it wisely!

Amanda K
this is a true and geunine picture of life you have brought here. well-done.

missing ya,