the
most
interesting
book
is
YOU

her skin,
its just like the sun as it comes through the curtains
early in the morning
as your eyes first open to greet the new day.

i gently slide my fingertips up and down her arm.
she feels a slight tickle and lets out a smile.
oh her smile.
like watching the sunrise on the beach.
her eyes.
like windows to another universe
where time is stopped at this moment
so that it can last for all eternity
and nothing exist but her and me.

her hair.
it flows so perfect, so beautiful,
so natural like a river so free and wild.
with the maturity of an adult
and the innocence of a child

her body.
a work of art
to stimulate my heart.
a masterpiece, a wonder.
lightning and thunder.
a perfect vision of ecstasy
a perfect dream for my eyes to see.

I don't know how I got to this page,
but I just want to bleed, and let
the red drops stain the paper
with my story -
with the hurt,
the love,
and the
hope.

She's seen everywhere
flashing her underwear
to voyeuristic
passers
by

My head hit the pillow and I was gone
The days caught up on me
My mind had no time to dream I just slept
I awoke refreshed yet laboured
I wish I could edit the weekend
Just keep the good parts
But did the bad parts make the good parts good?
Is the measure of good benchmarked by it?
A long  week ahead. What will life bring?
Less bad I beg as I've seen enough for this life