Can we...... I feel - is all this - wrapped in knots, hope, cloud, and a clout to my head A motion, flashed - twitched in a second, innuendos The clock handle moving - while our motion is steady - untouched Building and falling. Your bravery marked on us both, forever falling to your grip
Green, blue, purple, lively love my dear Have you whispered sweet nothings In ones soft ear, caressing them in a trans Whispering 'it's you' Finally, a dream caught in your sunrise The hands you hold me with mold into my side Marking my hide - burning inside With passion - fumed, full of embers crystallizing Will you bring me - collide to me - send me to you You whisper on my neck touching slowly - counting the galaxy The lunar collection piled on my back The mountains of smoke collect in your misted breathe And your holding me by a whisper - and I drag my arms Holding you - Fervor of your brushes - the taste of your wind Surrounds me - holds me
The world's tipped on its axis, yet my mind is tripped over you Lost in relish of giddy tickled touches - fools stuck in a dreaming pool of love Light rays land on your hand guiding a touch once more You do, hold me - and I you
A sweet young love. Holding Hands - that's all. Starting to be intimate is difficult. The anticipation for the first touch is always so big. When one finally holds the other ones hand it feels like the invisible shield of uncertainty is tactfully breaking down.