"overriding" poems
Derartu, Haile, Tirunesh
Kenenisa, Meseret, and all
With a similar footfall!
Displaying a superb
Long-distance athletic feat
When many superstars
Awe inspiringly you beat
And as a result of it
When your sought-for
Fought-for
And nation- prayed-for
Dream proves a hit
And also with kudos
A stadium full of people opt
You to greet
And when spectators
Accord you a high five
It is for your country's flag
You immediately dive!
Also on the podium
while Ethiopia's row-wise
Green,Yellow and Red
Emblazoned flag,
Shoulder high,
Soars above
You express
Your umbilical cord-tight
National love
With tears that
Trickle down each of
Your cheek,quick.
Is it because
Reminiscent of
Each living hero
With a life sacrifice
That brought colonial
Aggression to zero?
Is it because
The bounty of the land
You grew up
Seeing first hand?
Is it because
The cherished corner
You cut in the heart of
The poor but prideful
Ethiopian neighbour?
Is it because
The unity in diversity
That showcases
Ethiopia's identity
Or citizens hospitality?
Is it because
At heart strings a tug
Or ,among others
Gratefulness to
Your iron-strong lung
When you hear
Ethiopian anthem sung?
Is it because a secret another
Deep down you harbour?
Is it because the Fertility
Hope and Sovereignty ideals
The flag advance,
Also Ethiopia's being
A beacon of independence
What is more
The nation's renaissance
Which in a curtain of mist
Before your eyes dance?
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 5:02 AM UTC
is this craft
that chose you,
not defined by millimeters,
precision absolute,
curvatures, so eye pleasing
they demonstrate
no tolerance
for tolerance
of the
ordinary
the skill of words,
too, cut so fine,
find the
extraordinary within,
refine, refine, refine,
shave away the trite,
the reused, discard,
instant recognition,
unusable
cut new cuts,
thy spirit tolling,
thy soul trolling
anew
is thy
toolings earth sourced
from and of the
ever better,
ever closer,
always newer
make thy own designs,
faithfully execute
the new born original,
by elevating,
with the tools
in you, provide us,
by illuminating
no thing machined,
can ever be as fine
as the originality
that requires
soft spoken definition
in new ways,
heart and hand
guild crafted
when God designed the Connecticut
autumnal leaves,
overriding the summers's single green, good
but not miraculous, insufficient,
when contrasted with the
shades of red, yellow,
purple, black, orange, pink,
magenta, blue and brown
of newly fallen
words and worlds
in the season of change
write me a tool
so elegant, so complex,
so refined and yet so simple,
that its point will force no choice,
but engrave gasps of pleasure upon
my faltering eyes,
my slowing heart,
my exhausted limbs,
and make me
live again
through your
finest creativity
heat heat heat
burn to look beyond
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 9:38 AM UTC
*A river flowing against its course
As if to floss
Its rare peculiar uncanny ingenuity
A notable case study of ambiguity.
An estranged lover unceremoniously
Literally butchering his offspring mercilessly
In cold blood
For having been dragged through the mud.
The undercurrents of change overriding
Entrenched seemingly myopic tendencies which aren’t binding
Causing irrevocably reversible state of affairs
Care not to be caught in the crosshairs.
A hopelessly optimistic romantic
Head over heel in love with the mystique
Aura of eccentricity effortlessly effused by
Her, she indeed worth a try.
Myriad circumstantial conundrums
That is cause of the inevitable humdrum
So characteristic of life
Answers a trifle few and the lackluster enthusiasm rife.*
Oct 24, 2013
Oct 24, 2013 at 2:21 AM UTC
He stealthily usurped his favourite poet's celebrated pen
Strove hard to write with a footing on the poet's ken.
In what resulted, others could only see an overriding yen
recognized patently as his; in this shady game he didn't win!
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 12:48 PM UTC
A lifetime worth of suffocation,
Emotions that are never ending
They flow out of me without and option to stop,
Sorrow,love,anger,frustration and even joy filling up in me.
Darkness harbored in my life for so long,
They say it's just a phase but it's been forever,
The emotion in me ten times stronger than average.
This can be both a gift and a torcherous burden,
Love can become pain,
And that pain is rooted in the assalt of rejection,
But then there is joy and it flows through my body and soul.
This has taken over me not just now but always,
When lonliness hits it's as though i'm sitting in blackness,
Nothing is in sight,
It's pitch black and I am alone,
The weight of my world seemingly upon my shoulders.
I fight but I've grown weak,
I pull myself out of the lonley abyss and there I am,
Once again surrounded by the world passing me by,
Apparently I am invisible,
Transparent in so many eyes,
Still with the emotions overriding me,
Forever will these suffocation of emotions haunt me,
Because they have now become me.
Jan 19, 2012
Jan 19, 2012 at 7:56 AM UTC
Curious bright light, like insect burn close to the core,
no one knows why we do this. Perhaps, it’s instinct,
how funny, an insect’s instinct that we share,
funny from a distance, but in experience – complete cosmic significance.
Nothing is more important, you are what I revolve around,
constantly fly close to the attractive warmth, oh – warmth,
no one can remove emotion, fire, burning ****** desire,
teenager’s fantasy, obscene embarrassment that makes us young,
with imaginative and over expressed feelings towards light,
Why do we fly so close to dangerous sun?
It can harm us, so, what must we do but dream,
raise expectations, deny faults, dream of ideal outcome,
outsiders watch; they snigger, laugh and even pretend we don’t exist,
they don’t understand the stupid phases, constant rambling,
internal beating up, bleeding from our organs within our soft skin,
they can’t see us from the inside, only from our youthful frame,
more important that life, this is our life, memories will be shattered,
make the little things last, they say, we don’t listen.
We’ll live forever, time is irrelevant, merely a trick of society,
as time is the destroyer of passion, and pure ecstasy,
so fly forever. Towards the bright LSD steam that emits electrical glow,
fly forever. Finding different ways of explaining its attractive aura,
sensual smells and touches arouse us, grasping for more,
so close, you push further, we are virgins finding ourselves,
exploring our bodies, yours and mine, all is new and exciting,
explosion of overriding passion, spilling around our hips,
naked with awkward embrace.
We are so close to the fire; dangerous and beautiful fire,
as close as I can be, to true desire,
thrusting and propelling, spinning uncontrollably,
mind is hazy and drunk,
feeling so right, feeling so good, feeling so,
description goes on, until hit the glass, border between pain,
though, the collision stings, it does not ****
like fence, impossible to cross, it protects but denies,
fly away.
The cycle continues, until we wise up,
learn to avoid the light, grow legs and walk,
no more flying, no soaring and freedom,
you walk away, leaving it behind,
but as you turn, glance behind your tired shoulder,
the fire still burns it’s eternal glow, trapped in restricting glass.
Jun 5, 2012
Jun 5, 2012 at 4:25 AM UTC
What’s this?
A relic from my childhood.
Long forgotten.
Memories spring forth from nowhere.
My imagination is brought forth front and center
And history is repeated
For me alone.
I watch the movie
Every emotion (such joy, such fury, such sadness)
I feel again with renewed vigor.
Cringing in childish embarrassment and smiling the way children do.
Every motive (children are really such fickle creatures; innocence isn’t something learned)
Is held dear again in my heart, overriding my ethic, my values.
My senses are overwhelmed with old, dusty film reels and stale popcorn.
I grip the armrests of my seat; I cannot take my eyes off.
I laugh at every cereal-box quality joke and cry over every scraped knee.
I even feel the relief and comfort the cartoon-character Band-aid brings.
Sandboxes and freshly cut grass.
Bright, warm sunlight and the rabbit hutch.
Vacations with Mom and Dad together.
The movie ends but lives on as I walk out of the theatre.
Like a tattoo on my shadow, it walks with me home.
All of this in a blink of an eye.
I remember.
Jan 15, 2010
Jan 15, 2010 at 9:32 PM UTC
that place with comforting as theme overriding,
essentials of dream, complex, shelter, cocoon,
which/whether, almost irrelevant,
if and or,
don't matter when you are at home,
light, fierce sun rays eyes filled,
moonlight stars invading one's composure
now!
time
to alight, feet on the grounding,
rain,
pelting, not an inhibitor to the poem
in me, its resonating drumming me up,
to a beating, a lyric, a thyme of rhyme,
fragrantly repeating in my head, home,
home is where the flagrant poems are
born, delivered by no midwife, from
the ***** of my entirety, all five sensoria,
commanded by multiple generals on
different battlefields, coordinating a
battle plan, exhale, attack, coordinate,
brain, eye, smell, movement, urgency,
taste, words gushed, light emitted from
the fingertips, you cannot write as fast
as required, you, self, afired, and afeared,
losses will be greater than expected, but
no matter when we carry the tide behind
us, sweeping the obstacle of ego, pinging
pain, the hesitation that collapses courage,
oh god, oh me, be brave, lead me into the
breach,
the hole, the aperture that will allow a totality
of me to exit, to escape, to compose, p r o p o s e,
the confines of my uncontrollable uncontained
unconscious natured being and fervent annouce,
on this day,
*this poem shall be
written in its fulfilling, exiting fulsomeness,
&
entirety,
and let me rise, raise up, lift and shout,
one more last time, like the first time, praise and glory,
hallelujah to the parts of me that gifted me this
poem in-the unity-of-unison, uncensored, un~
inhibited and finalized momentarily perpetual,
with an amen amendment offered up too all and to
me…
amen, amen, amen
and let us rise up to morrow and once more,
write up to ride to birth the essentials of my next
homebound
be-ing
Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 5:15 PM UTC
Prelude,
Skin was scorching,
Prickling our naked ankles.
Whispers of passion—amounting to the indefinite.
Excitement overriding fear.
Your smirk—it was scorning my wit, but all the while I was spinning—
Trying to outdo you.
Challenging the norm of lovers before me, despite those many warnings.
And yet, here I am, brushing against your infamous lips,
Having more intentions than I care to share with you,
Because I will be the exception.
I, a determined revolutionist bent on transforming your philosophy.
The inevitable vulnerability, the alleged helplessness found by your touch—
You were all talk, and nothing I couldn’t handle.
_____________
Interlude,
Something encroaches now.
A force unplanned.
It violates me. It breaches the wall of my veins.
Slithering, swimming —
A parasitic force of which I was convinced I was immune.
Biology’s symbiotic model; forever tainted by our act.
For many a love was given in primal flesh, yet goes unrequited in spirit.
I believed I could break this cycle.
I, the revolutionist
Believed I could topple your deeply set pride.
I believed I could crack your shell and pull out the viscera,
Bleeding, pulsating in between my fingers, and let the mass slide from my hands
To fall upon your chest, floundering in plain view.
I imagined that your eyebrow would raise, your lips would part to form a
Contorted grin, you would sigh, and then admit,
“Nicely Done.”
I believed you would be impressed.
I believed you would be impressed…
______________
Epilogue,
Wit is waning.
Skin is cold, rotting… and wasting.
My beautiful body is rotting.
And I cannot admit that you were right,
Lest I would rot more quickly.
Still unyielding to your claims,
Only so you not think of me as fragile,
Not because I think I may win.
Clinging to the hope that you may someday learn to love
This broken, yearning body.
This fallen revolutionist—
All along a convenient satiation of flesh.
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:07 PM UTC
Miriam coming out of her tent
caught the early morning sun;
let it transform her into slow
wakefulness; allowed herself to be
caressed by its heat, its motherly
warmth. Her companion in the
tent, some girl from Lancashire
who spoke such utter tripe, slept
and snored on. She scanned
the field of tents, red and blue
across the greenness. She wished
she knew where Benny's tent was,
but it was pouring with rain last
evening and both fled to their tents
to avoid getting wetter than they
already were. How wet she got,
right down to her underclothes;
sticking to her skin, which had
to be peeled off, and trying to do
all that in the small tent unable
to stand, with the girl gawking
at her as if she'd never seen a
naked body before. She zipped
up the tent, and made her way
up to the campsite restaurant
through the green field still damp
dampening her shoes. The restaurant
was busy; people talking, queuing
up for food and drink, table upon
table packed with other campers.
She lined up; she'd find a table
after; sit where ever. Benny found
her and told her where he was
and the table. She felt a thrill enter
her; a sense of excitement flowed
through her body as if someone
had switched a switch and sent
off a deep overriding desiring itch.
Sep 29, 2018
Sep 29, 2018 at 1:14 PM UTC
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are sound
Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how crazy we would
Be without it
Nov 17, 2011
Nov 17, 2011 at 5:41 AM UTC
Susie polishes the silver.
She hates polishing the
forks, the bits in between,
the stink of the cleanser.
She’d rather be in bed
with Polly in the attic.
Holding her close, feeling
her body next to hers.
The cold weather offers
a good excuse. Polly’d
say, get off me you queer
*** otherwise. She rubs
the cloth over the prongs,
the stink making her feel
nauseous. Dudman, the
butler will be along soon.
He’ll snoop up close to her,
look over her shoulder;
press his body next to hers.
Maids are as nothing, he
often said, pressing his
finger into her back, or
pinching her **** She holds
her breath as long as she
can; the stink is getting to her.
She thinks back to the night
before, Polly’s nightgown
against her flesh, her smell
invading her nose, spooning
close. She recalls the moon
in the skylight, captured like
a painting, the stars spread
like ***** on a dark cloth.
Mrs Gripe the cook called her
a lazy cow over breakfast,
the fat ***** staring at her
with her cow like eyes. She
rubs between prongs, eases
along the handle. She’d love to
shove the fork into Dudman’s
**** push it in with all her
might. Soon the bell would
ring, someone would want
morning tea upstairs. She
breathes out, puts down
the fork, picks out a spoon
and begins the cleaning again,
thinking of Polly, her fingers
caressing the spoon’s end,
imagining ********* along
Polly’s waist, moving her
thumb into the indentation,
sensing her body move, that
weird overriding sensation.
Jan 5, 2013
Jan 5, 2013 at 4:17 AM UTC
When I look into the mirror
Each morning after dawn
To peruse the wrinkled skin
And slack musculature drawn,
When I snore upon the couch
Before flashing TV screen
To be woken by my sweetheart
For a dinner yet unseen.
There’s an overriding likelihood
That achievements made to date
Will be my lot for evermore....
An admission that I hate!
And the scent of hot seduction
Though a feature of my youth,
Shall be confined to flash of fantasy
Amidst pains in nagging tooth.
Enduring twinge of aching joints
To the whistling in the ears
And the apnoea of sleeplessness
Which just consolidates the fears.
Homeopathy has promise
To the happy road to health
But pharmaceuticals are farming
For my meagre worldly wealth.
Though the promise of the afterlife
Which held aloft on high,
Presents a gaggle of good churches
Who will proffer you the sky.
Best to form your own religion
With philosophy of POW!
To say" IT’S ALL ABOUT ME, BROTHER"
AND I WANT MY YOUTH BACK NOW!!
Marshalg
Wielding the Gold Card with an impotent flourish
AUCKLAND
25 January 2012
Jan 24, 2012
Jan 24, 2012 at 8:14 PM UTC
Part 1
The snooze button empowers me to the veto the day
However some Congressional sub-committees on time and financing appear to be overriding my action
Part 2
I have played with clouds
I have seen moons drop past the horizons of distant worlds
I have talked to Solomon, Moses, Jesus, Muhammad, Siddhartha, the Dalai Lama, all of his incarnations, Gandhi, Ben Franklin, Abraham Lincoln and soldiers returning home from countless wars
And I have been disappointed thousands of times because you have awoke me before I was fully enlightened
Part 3
You should have warned me before I said something stupid
Why don't you ever signal me before I over draw my checking account
You could of let out some kind of peep telling me that the dog was about to crap on the floor
You are good for nothing
Part 4
It needs to be over between us
I am in love with pillow
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Organization man. In the best sense
creating the environment in which experiments
can be savored and remembered.
Then there is the world of interlocked
organizations. A world of missions and contracts
finely tuned and binding.
Is the formation of associations
as instinctual as nesting and gestation?
A leader may be one who asks a question.
Or may be one imposing order.
Imposed through consensus and broad shoulders.
Waits, watches, acts his part.
I was impressed by the list of distinguished senators
from Vermont. He placed himself among men,
orators, imperfect, in history.
We march forward, imperfect in our justice
and compassion. Overriding logic with conscience
sometimes, not often, when it counts.
And mercy. A seemingly irrational, total
abnegation of the markets, rules of war, law.
Good to be so flawed.
Aug 10, 2015
Aug 10, 2015 at 10:42 AM UTC
I've been building you for years now
Careful, poised and true
Ive coded in your feelings
And every single bruise
Ive etched in each memory
With the finest blades,
It was all to keep you safe
But its time I think
For some major upgrades
There's so much we need to change...
Your positivity needs an update
It was hacked by pessimism long ago
And it's infected everything
So it all needs to go.
Let's add more sunshine, more rainbows
Everything beautiful, that's where it goes.
Im overriding your worries
They've spammed your mind too much
They're meant to be small warnings,
Not an unnecessary clutch.
Let's take them down a notch
And insert some wisdom instead
Quotes and memories and poetry
To serve you through the worrying.
We can add a music function
For when the world becomes too much
Just listen to the sounds
To keep you sane and such.
I suppose we should also
Talk about tomorrow
We've lived on yesterday far too long
Always expecting by tomorrow We'd be gone
It's about time we look forward
So I've added in some goals
Some plans for you
To work towards.
Of course I promise rewards.
I'll schedule regular maintenance
From now on
Because you deserve
To be cared for.
Even on the days you feel
Far too gone.
Apr 27, 2023
Apr 27, 2023 at 5:40 AM UTC
Absorbing the pain
letting nothing spill.
I feel the alluring darkness
enwrapping me with its wings.
Overriding my words
by the whispers in my head;
making me push people away
to keep them at bay.
I guess this is how darkness wins
by telling you to keep it all
to yourself.
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 12:38 PM UTC
invariably long speeches
full of thoughts
empty of ideas
to improve a failing nation
with harmonic discrepancies
platformed and supported by
blood painted canvases
framed by the wailing
of those inflicted with the disease of war and politics
( those pitiful necessary evils)
no second thought
emanates from those wasteful
vain men and women
no. no second thought emanates to empathize the eternal
sadness wrought by their selfish actions;
this son of a dead man
is brought to you by
the politicians and CEOS
(sick warmongers)
in Armani suits and Rolexes
who seem to walk out of time
and they will send him
to the same fate as his father
never fully understanding
the complex waves of emotion
overriding and rolling over neural thoughts
just another face
just another body
just another life
now just another number
pitifully printed nameless
in wasteful
paper news
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 11:18 PM UTC
With a snap of my fingers
The fourth wall brakes
In a drop of the lights
I bow for the audience
Saying goodnight.
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC
You may silence your voice
But never quiet the mind,
That often ponders and queries
What is surrounding--
Let your words flow through writing,
Extrapolating thoughts
And developing them into
Coherent traces of ideas,
That ultimately envelope your precise
Notions and overriding sentiments.
Nov 7, 2016
Nov 7, 2016 at 8:51 PM UTC
A battles been chosen
Started from the lies you have woven
A government meant to protect
Is failing
That's what I detect
Defect
Dishonorable choices
Overriding and shutting down the power of our voices
The first generation to be afraid to speak
Is growing weak
Complacency is all the youth seems to know
Please tell me where did critical thought go
That's right, I thought I saw it fly right out the window
Creativity and education
Have been replaced in our nation
By drugs and thugs
Speed, **** and greed
Video games, dropping names
Glorification of stupidity
Stories that fall short of validity
The selling of *** has reached an apex
Controls minds like a hex
I'm afraid of what may come next
When the only concern
Is not to learn
But of things going viral
Sure seems we've found ourselves in a downward spiral.
-Tiffany S. Lewis 06/29/11
Jul 7, 2011
Jul 7, 2011 at 2:30 PM UTC
Tramontane concoction
Alien's of different worlds
Consummate's of relations
A sinner boy and angel girl
First class textings
Between the two of them
Pastlife Amour's
Meeting again in love and best friends!!
Maximal feelings
She calleth a dangerous thing
Yet for eachother
Ourn hearts due flutter
Were two bees without the stings
Cryptic strings
Angelic harped
We seek the moon
And rest at parks
We are two
Yet one in spirit
Forgotten the world
Made poems our pearls
As her voice I draw to hear it!
Her *** appeal
So overriding all the rest
Yet the rest has none anyways
For its mine amare
Tis the best!!
She's not the rest
For that I know
I gaveth up the world
Gaveth her mine soul
For I hope she knows
How much for her I adore
She's that spice in ones head
When life's gone dead
She brings happiness to mine door!!!
Ive never felt this before!!!
And tis
I won't!!!
I shalt not leave her
Yes I do believe her
She's mine Spanish rose!
Mine Spanish queen
And Spaniard dream
Where ice creams stacked
And dripping cream
Sensuality means!!
She's high to me
A throne in glee
A song and tease
I seek her tree
To lie under it
To tasteth her spit
And **** her wine lips
To grasp her tones
To feel her hips
To pull her hair
One stroke at a time
To take a dive
Inside her mind
She maketh Me see
When I was blind
She turned back the clock
I forgot all time
For her I shine
For her I love
For her I'd die
Please
Dont cry
Mine amour
Of mine
Thou art so fine
In a life I never knew
Make me thine husband
Please break me through!!!
Jun 10, 2015
Jun 10, 2015 at 3:10 PM UTC
Bedazzled Dreamer
Put the long boat in the deep waters of the mind the calm peaceful knowing all is glowing we glide not
Knowing where were going the subconscious will be our guide dividing the two worlds the quiet
Submersible is wild anything may be floating in these depths we have left shore far behind truly
We have entered unchartered waters there is no fixable Bering a lustiness takes over there is no helm
Just a pervading looseness not unsettling but truly uncharacteristic for the coconscious must always
Have a grip a grasp of what is where it is and every detail must be quantified now all senses are blown
A storm is brewing its far reaches unknown but there is softness that excludes fear the overriding
Thought is possibilities can be forged maximized eternalized thoughts are ghost like unknown entities
They were formally known but now remain a mystery dislodged from thought bases that are not solid
All is free association tantalizing in one sense then disconcerting in another what do I do with my mind
Surly it has jumped off the track I could be bewildered if I could get a hold on the situation free flowing
Unspoken but still distinctively saying volumes where is the slow button reams voluminous thoughts
Are spewing into nothingness being lost I can’t keep up the discernible is mixed with eons and theorems
Time and space is void of meaning the world here is elastic mass it convulses at will no parameters exist
The only thing constant is high velocity change being in one place is impossible all is jumbled who stirred
This caldron in my mind voice and pure thought are the same think it know it what burdensome lives we
Live when it is all a tattered sail on rough seas we behold nothing know nothing in the extreme
Romanticism blurts out sail for Trafalgar we are strangers in a plush gifted void try as we will there is
No simple answers but we are a simple people truly the only time were are fit is when we are sound
Asleep well then sleep on and I will do the same dreaming is therapeutic just think how crazy we would
Be without it
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 10:40 AM UTC
love slowly softly rounds the sharp edges
as you give yourself more and ever more
to loves overriding responsibility for you.
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:13 AM UTC