At work busy as ever, my break comes, with that beautiful little icon glowing on my phone, "sms message received", it you again, "hello", a smile warms my face.

A long night and I'm finally heading home, a drive often met with either silence, or my playlist blaring at top notch, but Tonight a new tone, echoed in my car, a voice, so sweet, so honest, so kind, again my face, warm with a smile.

A long week of problems, and a moment alone for an escape, soon that tone again echo's, a beautiful and soft voice, with such a delicate tone, soothing me,
as it flowed threw me.

Soon I find myself in thoughts that bother me, upset about things I can't change, saddened by things beyond me, but again, a glow in the dark at the corner of my couch, "my phone?", "So late?", I glance down,
Only to find you here,
again,
replacing my frown, with what feels like,what could only be describe as a crown.

It's always as simple as your attention.

In honesty ,
I don't see a reason not to,
I apologise for being crude or being rude or being blunt,

I can feel this urge,
this craving,
this want.

I know you've wanted it,
And I refuse to dennie it,

To be clear an honest, I don't plan to disrespect or disregard,
Your words or agreements.

But I don't disregard your wants, and I don't see why I would,
You make me feel like I shouldn't, but you do like you should.

Your eyes scream at me,
As your thoughts twisting into my frequencies, calling me, but keeping me at bay.

Your body reserved but your fingers twitch,
Watching you closely,
I can feel your nervous, it's not about me, I can feel you wanting me, but nervous.

As I said it's not me, your not nervous about me, you may not know me, but you know me, well enough to or understand or know my intentions, but you know your not nervous because of me, I know you aren't.

But I do know why you are.

You gave me a reason, but I don't feel you can agree with it, I can feel your regret already building as you say no.

But I know why,
your afraid, of the problem, of the situation, of the conversation, of the lingering regret of regrets yet felt.

But what regrets are more fearsome then the ones we create in our selves?

Give your desire to me, rest your eyes from fears, let me take what you want me to have, and I'll give everything I know you want.

To me this submission is one long coming, and now it's silent and waiting,
Every glance, every bitten lip, every idea of desire, every moment in my presence, I've felt you.

Your wants flowing to me like a current from the oceans pull, doubtless as they are, unquestionable,
And unrelenting.

So to be honest what reason not to, when it seems the scales have set, and balance is in my favor, and yours.

When I woke up that morning it was morning,
noon,
maybe,
the sun was bright,
I do remember that,
Yes.
There was a moment that afternoon,
The sun was hot,
But I was shaded, sitting on my patio, another smoke filled breath passed my lips, "it is love", I thought,every day I've felt it, for along time now, love that is, I've felt it prior, but this was far better,greater, almost perfect.
It is was perfect,

no,


it is perfect.

I considered how love should be,
Could be,

is,

I considered moments, lots of moments,

more moments the all the spare change,

ever,

moments of us particularly.

Me and her,
or you,
or us,
your are her, were her ,
and in my mind always will be,
Her,
the one Her I'll ever choose to have around.
It's is you, or her.

Perspectives.

But understand that morning was the morning,

The morning,

that I'd never be me, but us, or you, and I loved it more then I could love, and I will love it more then I have ever loved,
forever,

And forevermore.

Like the air it is me and I know not how to stop it or change it, I wouldn't,

I couldn't,

for this is my life, our life, your life,

forevermore.

People, all you people,

Probably just some, or most.
It's all prices and politics, policies, and rules, all those rules.
And laws, or not laws, laws of nature ,not man.
I would want to wish you all a great many things, but to what avail, kindness, gratitude, or just another acquaintance, spectator and player alike, all your trouble without problems.
You the few with so much, here's more for your mounds of extra, and to what avail?

It is not these things, it is not these things we brought in abundance, it is not these things we tax, or rule or judge, or pass, or

see.

Yes see.

Did you there, you all, did you the many forget the spectator?

For the eyes of the mass is you, the passerby , the swipe, the name caller, you the keyboard gangster, or how about you in your window to afraid of the world that you have helped make.

Where are you all the many, my masses,
my people, the human in you calls to the human in me, in them, in us, in ourselves to them.

But there are the policies there are your closed doors, we the few, or me the none, or fewer?

It is not what they make of you, but you, you, yes, you make you, you decide today what's tomorrow.

I shall call Thursday, this day, monday, and thus this has become mine. Not one unlike your own. But limited to your taxing on me.

The wall, is blue, 'the wall is white', don't force my reality to be your own. This is my life as I deemed.

So slow the hole ,the mass, that many, allow my life.
Our life.

Lives.

Life.