Dear Doo,

I know that I think of you more than I should. Yet, it seems as though it's innate. Regardless of genre, I can find you within song. Certain chords deliver your face into view. Purposely sealing my eyes in attempts to imprison your visage. These moments, however brief they may be, bring immense warmth upon my soul.

10:44 PM - 4/8/2008 - post comment

A thief did pillage my familiar.

Vagabond thoughts since unbend here.

The muse's wistful eye may extract a glimpse,

Or elect to veil aforesaid ponders. 

Continuation of flame, blind to your concrete absence,

Vital to sentiments it be not. 

Manifested in words your rooted essence do I collide.--Loretta