It is my theory
that we are all connected.
From the thread around your finger
to the ribbon on her wrist
and the rope tightened on my neck.
Every action has a consequence,
because when you pull on the string;
*something unravels.

There will always be
Something to admire
In the poetic gracefulness
Of horizontal desire

At the museum
when things are
shown just for display
why do you want to touch
and make it waste away.
Adore the beauty
and move on,
to look for more
to know more
the hall is pretty big
and there so many to
be explored, but
just by eyesight.
No my friend, touching
is just not right,
for there stands a guard
with a stick in his hand,
will push you out
shout aloud,
you will just repent
what if I hadn't touched
I could have seen the **end