Choatic Shivery Fingers

Who might use his breath to warm your shivery fingers?
Who might use the dews of his tears in the discovery of your red lips?
Who's your portable space heater while you're on the run?

Sunday's sand was Saturday's choatic fight.
But it was just an excuse to flight.
Leave, but don't leave me.
You've got a gig in the sky.
Pick a color you want to fly.




March 21, 2002, PARC.

Ed H. Chi (chi [at] acm.org)
Copyright 1996-2009 Ed H. Chi

The views and opinions expressed in this page are strictly those of the page author.
The contents of this page have not been reviewed or approved by the University of Minnesota.

All material Copyright 2002 Ed H. Chi