There is this girl
Who appears out of nowhere

She looks at me
She smiles at me

A look that cuts straight to my core
Waking up my veins, my body, my soul

A smile that pierces through my heart
like a billion of Cupid’s arrows

On top of the other, one right on the top of the other
Then another on top of the other, arrow after arrow

Straight..
Into..
My soul

Straight..
Into..
My heart

And this is the part of the dream
Where most girls will grab your hand

Where most girls will embrace you
Kiss you, saves you

But this girl isn’t the same
Isn’t the same with most girls

This girl didn’t save me
This girl holds my hand

She smiles again
And asked “are you ready?”

And finally I am
I am ready

She didn’t save me, together we fall
No, we didn’t fall, we jumped

And this is the part of the dream where
as we were falling into each other

I woke up, I woke up
Too bad I woke up

It could be perfect, this girl
But it was just a dream

This girl..
Just a dream..

In bed
the quality of love
can be expressed
in quantity of time..

"A Robert Palmer please, and two ultras for my friends here." sais the over weight man in pink golf shorts.
Of course sir
"I bet she purrs like a kitten between the sheets. Haha!" whispers the man sitting next to the pink golf shorts
"Look at that ***!", laughs the grey haired checkered shirt
"I'll smack it when she brings our order, bro.",replies pink shorts
Here is your Robert Palmer sir.
And two ultras.
WHACK!
Squeeze
They laugh

Head dropped
Tears fall
Shame felt

Yellow Haired Servant Girl

Music, the wind
I was a wave, upon the ocean
A leaf, free,
and floating untethered from the branch
In those instances, no longer mortal
I WAS every emotion contained in flesh
A bird, fearless
in a hurricane
I made love with every note,
every melodie
Crescendo, was *******
The music caressed every part of me
from the inside out
Kissed my toes,
as a long lost Love
Cradled my soul,
like I was a newly born child
To dance,
for me, was heaven
and hell
It is living and dying,
in an ethreal universe
where only beauty exists

For you, my friend;)

O me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

Answer.

That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.