response part 2

Re-reading all of my distinct poetry,
while you,
lie un-awake at this night,
my fingers for long have ached to type,
rows and lines of un tainted thoughts.

it has been a long while.

after the most passionate part of the day,
bring home mice,
and waiting for the first light of day,
i saw burding under the street lamp,
in lue of the spring's first snow,
a rider came a wondering into the gallow.

are you of friend or foe?
both and neither says they
for you have meet me more than once and remember it every day

i doth remember re-tracing your words upon my skin
for this is where the ink penetrates my skin

all fragments of past and long distant forgotten poetry,
this is how life re-creates me.

I told you my story
of eternity
of the stars and how they reflect me
yet wonders are of your eyes
why they didn't answer any questions

they did
didn't they?
I should expect anyone to understand.
Maybe college is that place you go to find others similar
to find someone who is my used to be me
to remember who and what it is like to be myself and be understood by myself.
me.