Trinkets,that's what my fantasy of embracing you was like.
I wore them as thoughts,imaginative stripes,
Layered from waist to kneck,
Treasure chest unloaded,no spelling check.
I hold it still,even after openning and re-positioning its content.
I'm threaded to your arms its a preternatural attachement.
Stop!Do not read in between the lines.
This is breaking news New York Times.
Bonding with you beneath public lights,synthesises what I feel.
You know I'm the vine erupted by your roots of affection.
Meshed up against your heart.
Shall we meet in somewhere different next time.
Where the twinning will be of voices and perspiration?
M.O.O aka Carswell evoL
No comments:
Post a Comment