Whilte silk on whiter skin
What drives that boy to heroine?
Cold dark nights spent alone
His anger the centre of a cyclone

City of lights, a sanctuary
The money they give, a necessity
Morose, skin of filth
Hand not seen, touch not felt
Only the neddle, and the tightening of the belt

Michael
February 23, 2002

A lost child sits in the lonely box.
Oppressive, cold, and dark
-- It is home.

Every day the same.
Wake before dawn,
Jump into crystalline air.
-- Shower.

No one can see
Her porcelain dress
-- When the lid is down.

A quick brush,
The right blouse
-- Work.

And yet she dances
-- For herself

Be sure to put on a show
-- For others

-- Until the music stops

Minerva
February 20, 2002

Many have probably heard about the book called Twilight by Stephenie Meyer, which was released in October 2005. It's the story of an average teenage girl who moves to the cloudiest peninsula in the United States -- the Olympic Peninsula. Isabella Swan, aka Bella, moves to the small town of Forks, Wash., to live with her father after her mother gets married to an amateur baseball player. She hates living in Forks, until she meets a strikingly gorgeous teenager in her biology class.

Cold as ice, thou breath doth feel,

Skin ablaze in firey hell,

Mine heart crushed beyond repair.

 

Speak not the memories of past ages,

think not the cold caress of teeth to flesh,

but think always of my love for thee, tortureous.

 

Love not the way I think you dear,

nor of the way I hold you near,