Oh, Dead Sea Fruit!
Why do the days evade me?
Where have all the seconds gone?
I want to update you, nurture you, cultivate a relationship with you.
But I find myself distracted with
marking horrible narrative essays and
computing batting averages and
thinking of weddings and
reading Booker Prize finalists and
devising possible research proposals and
procrasturbating and
well,
procrasturbating some more.
One day I will mold you into something spectacular.
Until then you must ride the pine with the rest of them.
