JTParreira Posted May 13, 2009 Share Posted May 13, 2009 Your taxi pushing through traffic, through lights and horns overflowing like a river in flood; feverish cars, clocks running counter, all odds stacked against you, you still make to Paris Orly barely in time to light your interior fire with the bitter taste of a last cup of coffee that goes down burning like a bonfire on a field of dreams. Last call, calling all fliers, the good-byes and the kisses, overwhelmed lips turning around, once more, a last time, before becoming airlifted. J.T.Parreira Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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