| They are the last romantics, these candles:Upside-down hearts of light tipping wax fingers,And the fingers, taken in by their own haloes, Grown milky, almost clear, like the bodies of saints. | It is touching, the way they'll ignore. |
|---|
| Emily___Ann: weblog - photos - videos - audio - pulse - profile - subscribe! |
|
Sunday, July 24, 2005
|
| xanga - your site - terms - privacy - jobs - help - press - join - Language |
| safety - parents - law enforcement |
| report inappropriate content |