Vol 8, Num 4 :: 2009.02.13 — 2009.02.27
I couldn’t speak, so I played and sang with you last night. 
 We stood close, closer than I thought we should, 
 The necks of our instruments intertwined.
You told me not to hold anything back, 
 So I didn’t. I poured it all out on this rough-made stage. 
 Now I’m red and rubbed raw and have nothing left to give.
The question remains: Do I have the courage to love
 Not just you, but this whole world that circles around me?
 They’ve all gone away, and there you are,
Singing alone in the dark. So I sit somewhat near you, 
 Without really knowing why. All I know
 Is that love is a good thing. Love is a very good thing.
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