Such ****** and passion,
intricate pictures we cannot imagine
Devoid of self, utter surrender
plunge into the streams of your soul
Finding the hot wires,
forming strings so we can find home
Not having a memory of what it means to be alone
Ode, to you, Love I say
It is not so much the words posted, but the context condensed
How you unwrap the figures textual 'til they make sense
It is not so much the touching and cuddling
but the invisible electricty of extrasensory connecting
It is not so much the breath on my neck as you reach in to kiss me
But the etheric messages of wind telling me you miss me
We have had a try to attempt to twist this style
To find the spiraling curls in prose
To dissect the detailed aerial strips of the scent of a rose
Ode, to you, Love I say
Poetry is forever
pottery forms artifacts of clay but do they stay?
This sweet ode paints a picture that will remain
in the drawers of eternity...
I cannot lie, it has been something of a frailty
my pursuits of love have quieted my frivolity
I have since been calm, playing an instrument imaginary
Waiting for a tone that will help me find my tune
You are that song that ends too soon
Ode, to you, Love I say
Just echoes and epiphanies
voices and mellow claps singing into me:
Ode, to you, Love I say
on this day a heart will not break
but will be strong and find its way.
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 4:31 PM UTC
Such ****** and passion,
intricate pictures we cannot imagine
Devoid of self, utter surrender
plunge into the streams of your soul
Finding the hot wires,
forming strings so we can find home
Not having a memory of what it means to be alone
Ode, to you, Love I say
It is not so much the words posted, but the context condensed
How you unwrap the figures textual 'til they make sense
It is not so much the touching and cuddling
but the invisible electricty of extrasensory connecting
It is not so much the breath on my neck as you reach in to kiss me
But the etheric messages of wind telling me you miss me
We have had a try to attempt to twist this style
To find the spiraling curls in prose
To dissect the detailed aerial strips of the scent of a rose
Ode, to you, Love I say
Poetry is forever
pottery forms artifacts of clay but do they stay?
This sweet ode paints a picture that will remain
in the drawers of eternity...
I cannot lie, it has been something of a frailty
my pursuits of love have quieted my frivolity
I have since been calm, playing an instrument imaginary
Waiting for a tone that will help me find my tune
You are that song that ends too soon
Ode, to you, Love I say
Just echoes and epiphanies
voices and mellow claps singing into me:
Ode, to you, Love I say
on this day a heart will not break
but will be strong and find its way.
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