A song in which to weep
Is this what they call corrupted? But also salvaged. She loves me, in her brisk way. It's the closest I've had of tenderness from her and she almost can't quite do it - she "cannot remember." It's okay, I would love her anyway. I love her for flirting with me, for indulging in materialism with me, for being cruel and smiting my enemies upon the mountain top, for telling me that it's not so bad, for giving me the best advice I've ever had. She is my ice queen, my fearless leader in the city, my collector of random, my borrower of dishes, my beloved friend.
I weep for my women and I weep for my men, too.
This is a weeping song
A song in which to weep
While we rock ourselves to sleep
2003-01-03, This is the weeping song
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