Nancy is a new generation of computers programmed to respond biologically she has built-in human shortcomings including conflicted feelings uncertainty sense of soul pre-installed parts of her are dying she can feel it after elaborate shower focusing on specific body selections underarms feet ****** *** face allowing other anatomical regions to retain natural biotech oils lathering scalp with premiere restructuring shampoo conditioner she dries applies fastidious refined moisturizer emollients to forehead eyelids mouth neck areas vigorously massages special mousse treatment into brunette hair cut medium length brushes teeth rinses with spearmint mouthwash lightly rouges face with extra fine powder mist meticulously paints eyes lips with conventional colors finally adding distinctive subtle scents behind ears neck décolletage wrists thighs derriere toes tonight will be 2nd date with Rick handsome successful options trader who has no idea Nancy is extremely sophisticated complex doll meeting at catch.com on their 1st date Rick has too much to drink possibly owing to his nervousness or shyness around Nancy who possesses regal beauty bearing yet infectious smile laugh he spills 3rd drink then orders 4th drink Nancy becomes courteously standoffish

Bob’s LG electronic 27.5 cubic foot French door refrigerator’s water filter ice system located on door is malfunctioning spewing out brown fetid ice chips onto extremely intricate decorative parquet (palace style) floor consequently leaking into downstairs neighbors custom design ceiling dwelling to make matters worse Bob’s smart phone is on the blink his internet connection down due to unpredicted wild winds he is beside himself in isolated frustration compounding this calamity is foreboding realization Bob highly trained biotech computer programmer may have miscalculated tiny chip link inside Nancy’s cerebellum stem

as Nancy is about to open door for eagerly waiting Rick holding small gift box in hand with note that reads thank you for giving me a 2nd chance something quite irregular unforeseen pleasure fear motor impulse tenses snaps inside her head she reaches for door handle while other hand grasps butcher knife

my eyes they do wonder
more than you will ever know
will they always
tend to find themeselves in thoughts unpredicted
by even myself
who could probe so deep, mingle so lightly
with touches and sighs not meant to come out they way they do
but even more
so much more
then what ill ever draw with my finger
love dipped sand gripped
oh autumn summer fall
gray September
red winter
sepia summer
under leaves and leaves

ocean

the ocean never changed
where I felt touch as a woman
released my first sighs as a woman
doing bad so bad
under things that were so beautiful

that was so beautiful

I mix and walk back
I must be a woman
to walk this way

and to look into all of your eyes
and feel nothing
and then feel everything

alcohol

white fresh and tastes like spring
under the imagination of so many things
I can go on forever

you know
about cups lovers creeps echos and black *******
that helps me flow

and I still bend to weak minds and words
I still bend to eyes fleeting destruction
to eyes who try to lie about everything
make believe they are something
dieing inside from nothing
bleeding tape around mouths with tongues that are too narrow
for proper speech

i still bend to beauty and love for the sake of -- love
or anything of such kind
meanings lost mixed and revealed through each other
with such discreet difference in between
and I feel the difference
and the contrast only makes me fall deeper into things that i don't know

once discovered

I grab my scarf wrap it around my neck with a thin cancer mutation in between my fingers
select my watch drape it around my wrist
put all belongings where they belong
and check out into the next hotel of
malicious life tones

Lost within an irrational equation
more like a unpredicted invasion
never knew what was the occasion
that forced me into this with no persuasion
not even an explanation just an evasion
a conflation that led me to devastation
of madness and rage straight to desolation
to the point of no return, the almighty isolation

The curse of a million worldwide women .
Came back and bit bit me on the ****.
Again it made me bleed.
Thought I'd moved on past.
My not so missed fertility.

Went to work, all good as gold.
My aged life it did unfold.
Was so upset.
With much regret.
I thought I'd faced the change.
So strange.

Thought the thing that kept me fertile.
Had run away for a long while.
It's back with a vengeance.
My ****** stupid body.
Just in time,
A Christmas gift.
Sorely so not wanted.
I guess a lesson sorely learnt.
Should not take my body for granted!
By ladylivvi1

© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)

Fake
A world prewritten
She planned on being unscripted
Her world is now unpredicted
She still knows someone else is in control
Depicted
Still a hope of making her own decisions
Yet there is nothing told
Destination unfolds
Still not powerless
She radiates greatness in a self-consciousness way
Expectance is decayed
Now only false hope and a piece of paper save the day

Yes, perhaps 'tis true.
Everywhere I go-with all t'ese dwindling thoughts on my mind-
'tis always the same shadows that roam, and moan-
before my eyes: and t'eir never-ending business.
Crawling on t'eir lips,
poisoning t'eir bosoms, chins, and hips-
but unrelenting in their unfolded shades;
with a swamp of bruises like mazes-tangled mazes;
likening them to spoiled, yet uncherished, little pearls.
How despairing-such views I obtaineth, on my every journey!
But shalt there still be space for us, to be outstanding;
to understand this world from a pair of eyes
glistening like unquestioning gentleness; but learning simultaneously
its unvivid perspectives
with such comprehension t'at is crystal clear;
such wit t'at is far from recklessness and greed-
salutations that are pure, and distant from any blighting threats
of equivocation? For t'is world is, in spite of its minuteness,
was framed and brought into life from
awesome darkness, abysmal cells of lifelessness
and hateful ambiguity.
How terrifying!
And often have I enforced myself to wandereth into those shades,
with unmolested poems boiling up in my brains-
and t'ose windy thoughts toppling out into th' paper
on my hand,
jostling through my veins like some ghastly, furious power
t'at's unseen, invisible as it is to th' human eye-
frail and susceptible to th' weather's surly temptations-
and entrapping me in the shrieks of its wondrous grot-
so I could never wane it any further, in my guileless brambles.
How I have dreaded t'ose sights-and t'eir dormant treachery! Lessons of
guilt, teaching of such guilty flakes of harm
and abomination! And how in my following quietude have I pondered-
t'at t'is would be just a balmy prelude to some far bigger strains of
mockery, obstinacy, and destitution. Hark to how those powers
shall arise! And that will indeed be th' abjuration of our splendidness-
everything shalt stop at a halt-everything will become flawed,
and no more poems shalt be liberated-from living souls, and t'eir undamaged
blood, as t'ey still are now! How I shiver at t'ose possibilities, as soon as our
latent enemies be on th' loose-free in t'eir ruthlessness, traces of dark,
unperturbed miseries, and brutal savagery.
And shalt we shine no more-like those summer flowers that are waiting for us-
to be fed daily like th' hungry morning doves;
with their thorns as sharp as love, and innocent gladness
in the arms of their lips-'tis but a scent so dear to the heartbeat
of oureth salubrious mornings.
But t'at danger, danger indeed! And its eyes of glaring monstrosity!
And 'tis just of substantial profoundness t'at we should be
cautious-yes, cautious, my dear fellows, towards t'ose signs
of th' upcoming storm-th malevolent storm of human rage, t'at shalt attack us
one day-at one perilous night, unpredicted and unexpected is its fate-
especially when all th' battling footsteps areth
peaceful in their slumbers-and no more palms dancing around
piles of paper-in th' holy procurement of continual wealth.
How t'at moment shalt be our early Armageddon-awakened shalt be
all rivers of terrors, and waves of hatred. How t'is beautiful solitude shalt end-
in th' fierce burning, brimming death of t'at flame-credulous shalt we be,
disempowered from th' heat-which shalt bring us but our dead feet.
Thus I but sincerely hope t'at gloom shalt not conquer our race-
the noblest of all creatures on earth-on t'is dull earth, fatigued as it is
from all th' uniformed battles, hatred, and anger-t'at untiringly sneer
at th' faces of those dying soldiers.
Peace, peace, my dear mates!
Ought to realize thou now-t'at swords shalt shed blood only if instructed.
So tranquility is but in oureth hands-yes, we are but th' key to our own salvation,
and since it is so, shalt we move forward and be the charms of t'is world's
new foundation: for it is our own life that we shalt save.
Peace, my friends, shalt but break all t'ese unseen boundaries amongst us,
and enrich our fathom of t'eir unspoken presence; so t'at th' small world is but
th' most dwelling of comfort, and aught but ease to our hearts-
our very dear, dear hearts in t'is life.

Shes more than just a pretty face. Shes a hurricane. Demin and lace spun around like wind and rain. A princess that has long since lost her crown- its probably at the bottom of the pacific by now; stitched together with good intentions, lightning, and leather. Held to the ground by a chest harness, gagged with cotton, and her heart made to beat to the rhythm of thunder. Voice like the pounding of the sea against bluffs; breaking down barricades with one subtle stroke. Uprooting trees like she does her long blonde curls and nothing can calm her chaos-not cuffs or rope, not diamonds or pearls. Shes just a little harder to handle then most. Oceans plunder through the floodgates of her eyes at any given moment; parading through the coast, tumbling around with all the broken and bruised cement.
Shes all the abandoned throwns left to drown or freeze without power, warmth or shelter. The promise to do better and be better next time coaxing her further into the fray by her collar and leash but its always the same unpredicted weather. Shes both beauty and the beast- complete opposites chained together by her ankles and wrists. Poetry pouring from her luscious lips in a heavy mist; a coldfront may stall her out but shes still quick to spit with the flick of a whip. Shes deeper than she appears but her foundations crumble under the rubble of her own ivory skin. Broken coral stumbling through the empty halls of her soul-it takes it tole. Shes the act of god, something so vivid and yet so insane could only be brought on by the abundance of sin. A divine cause lost in plush-sweet and also ******; a unity of odd mixtures: vinegar and sugar. Cloudcover hiding the blisfulness of the sun and she cant help but blush. Shes altogether too much and all she leaves behind is death and decay-she destroys everything in her path But its not her fault; she got broken too while sitting in the lap of a tormado; wrapped her up, held her tight, then let her go.Any attempt to get back inside only left her trapped in scar tissue, She went crazy when he called her baby so its no wonder nothing survived. She may leave you with a mild breeze and a sky of orange and pink.She'll send seashells spiraling into you until you become debris..make you wonder what its like to live without the kink.

She came into my life like an atom bomb
Annihilating every concept I'd molded.
She left my life like a cough fades
Harsh, but too gradually for me to notice.

He came into my life like the transition of seasons
And I was awed as I watched it happen.
He left my life like a collision of cars
Horrifying, but to quick for a reaction.

She came into my life like the morning sun
And I was awed as I watched it happen.
She's in my life as a ray of hope
Like a sinner's sweet redemption.

He came into my life like a shattered stained-glass window
All edges and cracks and broken beauty.
He fought my grasp with comparisons and words
Until I simply stopped holding and let him be.

She came into my life like a reflection in negative:
Completely me in every sense save color.
She gripped to my life the way I did to hers
Because we understand like no other.

He came into my life like a god to humanity
Ethereal and shocking, a showstopper, a freak.
He left my life like a punch to the gut
Unexpected as it stole the breath from me.

She came into my life like a drop of sour lime
Contaminating the sweets I wanted to savor.
She lingered in my life like a pungent reek
No matter how I try, I can't be rid of her.

He came into my life like sight to the blind.
She left like the stubborn scent of lavender.
He came into my life like a wounded animal.
She left like a shooting stars motion-blur.

I came into life with a whisper and a frown.
I came into life, hands outstretched to ****.
I came into life with all the knowledge I'll posses.
I came into life against my own will.

They come and they go in firework bursts of time.
They affect who I am like the smoke leaving ashes behind.
They come and they go in Kodak flashes of memory.
They affect my growth like acid water to a sapling.

There's beauty in the cloudy glass of lifeless eyes.
There's hideousness in the taught rope of blood ties.
There's peace in the chaos of rampaging thought.
There's madness in the lucidity of a single gun shot.

Life is gifted only to those clueless on how to live it.
Death visits those who know it far too well.
Life is fickle, a trickster without conscience.
Death is decided, a guide to the warmth of Hell.

Humans are wise with the possession of neglected logic.
Humans are wise with the knowledge of priority.
Humans are ignorant in the abundance of prejudice.
Humans are ignorant in the concept of conformity.

We are a small sample of the incorrect way to exist.
We revel and bathe in our wrong and enjoy it.
We are cutoff from what may be an intelligent universe.
The cancer of the galaxies, we are Earth.

Beyond this planet
Beyond this galaxy
Beyond the Andromeda
Is a blissful unity.

This galaxy is an ant under a magnifying glass
And to the galaxy of universes of cosmos
We are an experiment of exponential proportions
Intriguing from a distance and nauseating up close.

Our galaxy is a mobile hanging over a child's cradle
And, ignorant to this, we see ourselves as its center.
Should the child wake and the mobile cease to spin
Earth would end and, unconcerned, we would let her.

We came into Earth like molasses poison
And eroded at everything we found fit to touch.
We leave Earth like a disease cowed by the immune system
Though we are far too numerous to be hurt overmuch.

Zeroing in to see a face in through the violent cold fronts
There is naught but fear and pain to describe us.
Stepping back to see the entirety of this planet's sickness
There is little to see save bags of organs and blood and dust.

There is more than one that sees the futility in twenty-two billion lungs
There are others that know the worthlessness of eleven billion hearts beating
There is more than one that hopes for eleven billion lasts
There are others that see an Earth red and bleeding.

It is no wonder we do not know our own beginning.
It is no accident we are intrigued by our lack of meaning.
It is not unpredicted that we only see as far as our arms can reach.
It is not unbelievable that we cannot excel beyond our means.

Welcome to the void of complication in our simplicity.
Welcome to a glimpse of metaphysical existential reality.
Welcome to an explanation of the current and that far gone.
Welcome to a belief twenty-two stanzas far too long.

In the years to come,
you will learn you weren't a part of the five year plan
beautiful you, left me with a random roommate
but you were the farthest thing from random
my first witnessed miracle
know this,
you may have been an accident
but you were never a mistake
You may not see it that way,
so in simpler terms
You are the most gorgeous train wreck I have ever been stunned to see
You are an unpredicted storm that cleans your car the day before you were planning to get it washed
You are the pillowy sand after the tide has been swept away
You are the stomach flu that saves you from the test you didn't study for
You made everything out of nothing
with your first 2 am diaper change
came meaning
April 10th is always a beautiful day to be born
I thought so
Even when I thought I was the tragedy,
I knew this day would be the days stars are born

Thieves, thieves.
Christ are we petty.

Could not have imagined
such a death
Such a short-sited
venomous slip of the mind
such a death-toll...
so unpredicted-ably sad to see
            A mighty species
Die.

That's the fate of the fate-less, I guess
Our gods were a faceless
Mass
of derangement
Massive enough to take us to space.
What we've plucked from out of our souls
We can never replace

Such as it is, we have no chance
Put to death.
****** and detached.
That's how it ends
--surrounded.

We write out
these sorrows
that aren't really sorrows
and
Pin the tasteless love to our chests

Oratorical ****-hoarding
Trade-card victims
with no actual dignity left.

How embarrassing..
the glory of man-kind
To face a demise,
so mundane.

Forsaken by lies.


Our souls have been neutered and
Turned into tools for
Violently-popular
Prostitution-alized fools

Love for the luscious
the rush of the snarling
Hysterical rousings of
Tumultuous twerps.

This is the way that history ends.

Resting in our dreams.

Once you "shift" - you're off
On a manic adventure, chaotic and mysterious:
Buoyed by a self-aggrandised delusion;
Your off to explore and discover;
To find answers to unposed questions;
To clarify coincidences and follow tenuous connections;
Compelled to experiment and to wander,
Wondering about unfathomables
And your place in the Cosmic hierarchy;
Trying to fit Reality into your newly conceived World;
Trying to fit yourself into a newly conceived Reality.

All information is relevant and pertinent,
Although your filtering system is faulty -
It all relates, even though connections aren't made;
All those colours and sounds and improbable texts;
All those lyrics absorbed and randomly regurgitated;
All those shapes and serendipitous meetings,
Conspire to cement and contradict;
To fuel conspiracies and entrench coincidences.

However, these wondering wanderings
Have their price - and the cost is potentially lethal.
The thin veneer of civilization is threatened
By an unpredictable Actor searching unpredicted truths -
Eventually, a collision of Authority and self-empowered delusionist;
A collision of the socially endorsed and the socially disenfranchised;
A collision with only one survivor -
When you re-emerge from the Institution
You're changed; shattered, re-constructed and de-fused
For the Greater Beast that We call a Civil Society.

[Afterall, I've repeatedly maintained that War {even on the Conceptual Plane}
Is not a Legitimate Occupation, but a sometimes Necessary Evil to protect the Innocents and Idiots working for Our Simple Pleasures in the Essential Evil that is Life as We know it at Present. 10/3/2014]

I run from the fear of failing

Speaking bigger than the actions I take
The smile is a perfected performance
To hide from the situations thrown my way
Ditching the people with my future plans
To hide from the world’s unsure
It’s up to me to face the demons
The things that build up outside my wall
Diseases spread from inpatient complications
Killing confidence that allowed my mind to flow swiftly
Pushing away at the generosity of hearts
To run isn't the solution I need

I run from the fear of failing
Tears stream with words that I cannot say
I lose myself in the unpredicted reality
Ghosts of regret attach at the seems
I’m still not letting you in
Mars can burn and crash
Acceptation is an action
I feel the darkness drag me down
Smoke suffocation inflates my lungs

I’m leaving the world tonight
Grasping isn’t a concept I conceive
Left out in the forgotten cold
Running is a self inflicted blow
Breathing is a complicating gesture
Mixed liquids coarse down the curve of my neck
In the wake of my vanishing my heart spurts emotion
Eyes shut without demand
Running seemed so much easier then this
Before the candle flickers out
Companions flow by on clouds of mute
Belonging without inspiration
I can’t outrun memory

I slip into failure
Objects of desire stumble down the cliff of mercy
Sharp edges are in my future
Head hanging I fall
Meaningless everything seems when you're leaving

I run from the fear of failing
Speaking bigger than the actions I take
The smile is a perfected performance
To hide from the situations thrown my way

Wake up with Fake smile
Dream to get nice time
With freezing cold
My face in extreme sow

Life in sun
Back in ray of dawn
Zeal to get out of burn
Still in the maze

Full collapse and crack
Life full of dull
Stay in harsh sand of bulk
Use as like a doll

Harsh and Dash
Unimagined and unpredicted
Now struggle is fate
Still dream for Great
World in my way unfair

Why is it called chaos game
when all we do seems to reframe
the thoughts we've had before?

If half of x constitutes y
and if, therefore, the sky is blue
then let me show you
something else:

a little girl that sits and dwells
on a green field
plays with a game of marbles.

After each cast
she looks and pins
a little leaf of grass
into the ground.

She plays her game
until the sun goes down
and, tired now, she rises
looks again -
begins to frown at what unfolds
before her eyes;

the leaves of grass
have formed a shape
that, in the gloomy light,
resembles much a pyramid
with lion head, a human body,
and a riding knight who clutches
a fleur-de-lis-

Reaching down the giant girl
picks from my hand the gift
that I for her have brought
into this world, for her to drift
however far she dares
to go.

And chances are that,
in this chaos,
in this chaotic game,
this lily is the only thing that we both see
and thus the only thing that is worth looking at;

          Thus, my equation ends,
          having used up all xes
          and all whys-
          exhausted from such high amount
          of unpredicted turning points-

And no one tries
to sit her down to talk.
And so the girl continues;
and she keeps on to walk
in purple fields,
with lilies in her hair,
forever drifting,
planting her faithful seeds.

Hearing your voice I feel like I am floating on the canvas of a painting
The colours blend in a splendid action just like the ripples made by a single busy duck on the pond this Fall day. 
I tilt my head back and sink even more into this moment of enlightenment. This unpredicted ascension of the mind.
I hunger for more in a pleasant way.
My fingers run the length of my hair and break free.
I smile all to myself and inhale peace.
Eyes closed I see the world in all of its delicate and fragile beauty.
If only for a second I could open my eyes and truly see what is beautiful. 
The cold and moist air burns, but I breathe it in with vigor.
I feel alive for the first time all over again. 
I curiously question why doesn't life always feel this pleasant.?
Why does it not ever look so simple and elegant?
Sorrow comes and quietly wraps its massive arms around me.
"Not today," I breathe without breaking from the strength of this water-coloured moment. 
I remain seated on the park bench and plunge deeper into my thoughts.
I fall away with the sounds of your voice and nothing else. 
For this quiet, chilly, and solitary Fall evening is Mine.

He ignores my words.
They never reach his ears.
He turns his back on me.
Without no apology.

The trees hide whispering birds.
Karma on your car lands a ****.
Through the cloudy skies they steer.
Like little tiny specks on the horizon you see.
Shapes of signs from zodiac astrology.

A friendship never formed.
Sheltered from the unpredicted storm.
A family still unborn.
Independent & private in a dorm.
No one generation is mourned.

A perfect formation
Sacred & purposely placed in this nation.
A face unknown.
Homeless without a number for a phone.
Harmless it freely roams.

Hearts pounding,
Minds racing,
Skin touching,
Eyes meeting.

Love blooming,
Hands holding,
Smiles shining,
Cheeks blushing.

Blush fading,
Smiles falling,
Hands slipping,
Love losing.

Eyes dripping,
Skin yearning,
Minds screaming,
Hearts dying.

New beginnings,
Hated endings,
Wanted loving,
Dreaded leaving.

Unpredicted,
But still okay.
Your lost lover
Will fade away.

Small, unnoticed,
Just a flicker in your chest,
Not enough to realize.

How long has it been since you felt it last?

Grand, unpredicted,
Exploding lights in my chest,
Dumb enough to realize.

How long can I last without feeling it again?

You say it's better to scare it off,
I say it's better to face it off,

Don't you think, that I know,
How bad is this for my own?

You realize,
And you decide,
That my wings shoud be shaved off.
While all I want,
Is our wings to fly together.

If I'm a silly butterfly,
I hope he is drums and fireworks on the rain

"All I had was a voice. Same melody I would sing when I was in the field--I just wail out in the woods and let the echo come back to me."*
                                the only pure act
                                       is express all I am
                                           essence alive filling void
                           receiving response of lovers and strangers,
                                  of walls which waver then melt and bless me
                                        unpredicted
                                            uncontrolled
                                                undulating waves of joy

It's funny isn't it?
How fast happiness can turn into sorrow,
So quickly,
So unpredicted.

I used to love looking at your pictures,
I used to love hearing your voice.
But now it just hurts.
It makes the hole in my chest feel so shallow.

I miss you.
I miss us.
I miss everything we were.

Please come back.

by: William A. Marshall

I disrobe and survey
noiseless instruments so
austere rather dreary
colored walls that reflect
unemotional elements I
ask for another blanket
so sterile a fragrance
like nothingness fill my
nose eyes float disregarding
back to the strangeness of
time moving as sounds of
feet flap in the corridor
I wait then as a subdued
knock at the door my
immortal sketch filters this
time but I broaden with
unpredicted comfort receptions
you can only receive when people
are not well an agreeable scene
professional mollycoddling
no fussy clinging of inseams
that ruin atmospheres
I go head on into obscurity
as a nurse asked in a puzzled
way about my faith she
was confused by my notes
about Dostoyevsky
I provided in that portion
of the form she wanted
to know irrespective of what
the other staff told her
I shook my head with
acceptance responding with a
vague originality the back of my
mind thinking what if I don’t
return - a way that is disconcertingly
adequate and peaceful and quiet
I notice my garments stuffed
into a clear plastic bag
to be received by somebody
upon my possible reemergence
locating a theme in time
and a lack of difficulty with everything
not interfered with but
unexpectedness actually the minutes
move away knowing that I will
not remember spike introduced
to vein as they examine the
drips of dose inhalations mounted
in my face muffled voices
fade the syringe is plunged
I know the train is now
approaching down the
track but I am not uneasy for
some reason talking more
about nothing while people move
the morning flows mechanically
without me like water
in a brook never to be
seen again chatting melodically
then calmness where I had
gone that wintertime morning
I can’t remember all I was
content though on that cradle
I know it was suitable late the process
had taken and imagined into an abode
that I no longer recall smiling
knowing it was a delightful place
where people take you into
their care peeking slowly then
through the fog when I glanced at
my wife assured by the cup of coffee
that she offered
and recovery rinsed over me
a return to my existence like returning
from death

This feeling is new
Though the emotions were always felt
Fingers framing your face
Eyes locked in heated maybes
The words came fumbling out
Unprepared or planned for
Though future lies unpredicted
A dark vortex of possibilities
A hopeful flame sparks up
Fearlessly facing the unknown
A fools heart in the making
With a determined soul

Exist, exile,
when set aside for that last mile,
a trial at close of day,
why me, not you,
'tis for the few
to end at break of day,

my life not easy,
trouble free,
and yet it had its way,
through times of joy
and times of sadness
times of freedom,
times employed,

twinned the two halves
joined in gladness,
mother, father's seed
developed into me,

what magic that we live at all,
mysteriously understood,
the chemistry of matter,
solids, particles,
bones and flesh,

changing places over years,
blood and consciousness,
include a formula,
that random took its place,
in present times, its power,
its grace,

when we understand the whole
loose face,
the universe
so vast a form in flux,
like glazes in the white hot kiln,
their unpredicted fusion,
clay and rocks reformed
as glassy liquid,

soon to be a solid surface
hard,
and we, the human race
are only shards.

And as you kiss my neck-
Filled with a lump of bitter,
Raw emotion,
I know you are the one.
The one for me now.
Unpredicted futures hold us oblivious,
Life in the present is much worth living.

Everytim I think of touching your skin,
My body lets out a little peep.
Its nothing more than a sound of wanting
a touch not finding.
Your very skin keeps me lying awake at night...
just thinking.
But whats different is I'm not tossing and turning from stress,
I'm cool and good with our crazy future.
Who knows what will happen and when
I want to explore the unpredicted wild of life with you
and the touch of your skin.