The hand exhausted me.

Because we're both in a hell a shallow dim flame each running from ourselves. To reach heaven we need but meld and fly through all our self loathing, and insecurities loving each other's imperfections to the point of spontaneous combustion.

Quit writing ******* hand...no one cares what you have to say.

Even without the master painting that God made your sweet face....I still float hopelessly lost in your ocean so profound.... love so hard I drown.

Lay beside me ....relax and close your grey-blue eyes.... fingers teasing your golden hair so lightly as warm breaths roll from your wholesome ear down to your neck and nape.  Lost am i in your hills and valleys where my language speak is golden tongue.  Seeking refuge in your cave of love, languishing lapping sipping from the sweet sweat your womb exudes.

Do you wanna take a bath?



©Pink Floyd

Some reader's leave a ****** trail of broken poets ...along the way collecting tiny pieces of each to Frankenstein their perfect ONE!