yet

is it enough that we do not write each day, that we travel on the old train sometimes.

is it acceptable to think in phrases, believe the attrocities yet do not share them

with friends.

what would they think of our diet and strange sleeping habits, we shall not tell them,

anymore.

is it a crime that we have spelled it wrong, and not go to heaven, which is okay

as our heaven is here, on earth.

the phone at the hotel was busy, and they have not rung me back.

yet.

sbm.