Thursday 12/14/2006 12:14:00 AM

Running stairs in the room next door. Footsteps drumming like anxious fingers. Impotent earthquakes trace the transitions from when to if. We crumble because all those adhesives lied to us.

At the anchor's eblow. Where the choices dream of being right. At the decision's breast. We nervously unbuttoned her blouse only to discover she had always been naked. That there was only pleasure in not knowing.

Weren't we flannel? Weren't we velvet? Tactile monsters in lover's clothing. Creating answers to riddles that didn't exist.

Tomorrow came and went without ever knowing how long I'd waited.

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