It's budding intensely. A waking flower in the mist that you are.

That's all.

But it's not your prose, it's not your rhyme, it's not the melodies you sing or the wrongs you right...
















There you are again... You Penetrate me, Dominate me, intoxicate me infuriate me elate meholdmeandleavemeobsessmeandthrillmeasifall d e e per a n d d e e p e r into that ever familiar loop of how to reach you again, but it's not your prose, it's not your rhyme, it's not the melodies you sing or the wrongs you right. It's your infinite presence. A taste of eternity always drips from your lips. Your silky hands upon my hips; you, always at my fingertips.

The future is filled with loud dreams and bright sounds, the past with silent screams and thorny bounds-- but you






















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...




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?




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The **** subtlety which you exude; A raw glimpse of infinity in the ****.