October 5, 2011

Stop no. Seven by Johanna M. Geiger

     I could make you fall in love with me.
Make you trip over your brown leather shoes and into my path.
     I am often like a freight train barreling forward:
              no destination in sight, only, the ever-moving rails beneath me.
     My fortune today:
                                       Good things are coming.
                                                                                     Paper slip tossed aside  I 
                                                                     am not in the mood for passive rewards.
     With one hand stretched forward
                                                          I grasp at you with the other.
     A missed connection, maybe, but not irreversible.

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