These clouds of Italy are grown on vines,
Infidels of skies, fruit bearers of wine-veined
Marble, fertile in spite of its own lifeless tableau,
Here thrives the succulent garden of the alone,
Where turns aside the burnt nape of the plowman,
Voyager of the cool midnight seas of the mind,
Up to this arable vine of sighs from outworn gods,
And hears his heart once more give up its throne.

I miss you
Miss your words
I find you
Find your hands.

I know you
Know your heart
I want you
Want your new art.

Do you feel me?
Feel my emotions!
Would you reach me?
Reach my affections!

You look at me
Look at my heart
Do you feel that?...
We aren't so apart!

Came and will soon be gone,
She came and did not bend the rules
She smashed them into
Dust

No usual rules of engagement,
No control no limited investment
Just she
And I
And google translate

Oh and a world of
Uncertainty viewed from
My back foot yet
This minor humiliation
Will not **** me,

Knowing this
I am relaxed and do not fear
The mockery nor yet
React in anger at the slight
Of shared laughter at my expense

What is, is and
What will be will,
Or not transpire,
So I will wait and I
Will see what comes

Maybe good and maybe more
But probably almost
Certainly nowt
And nights and
Nothing more than friends

And that too is fine

We dance noses almost touching
Our arms and hands
Placed as the style dictates,
Arms in tension and legs poised yet the
Greatest electricity flows eye to eye
And soul to soul