tap dancing with paws great is a musical in the making getting out side with a rush folds the carpet after waking stretching cuddling noses
the identity of one being ripped a… as if covered by the snow with each layer the complexity rises in the melting pot
yellow flashing white laying brown reaching gray creeping blue floating
shy timid in a way that makes the blood warm, beating as it pump… the words from the finger tips creating it’s own world - to live… or dream of, the stars tell the st…
if only to have him see that the inside of the marble wont roll, tilted but the pink of the rose will go up the nose
with it’s icy soaking fiery gaze it all ended, blown away with out a care, for the other what did he mean by that when he wrote it with red pen
as i place my hand in yours and we manipulate the dance floor at the museum the people stop
in times of old it was obscene the character the choice made and history told
i weave the butterfly hairs into your looks and they look like feathers blowing in the airs with no one to read the book the tongue stopped by time
the tears didn’t leave a trail into the corn field till after the couple was found frozen and dead but left many puddles after
lost in the scent as the smelling… escorting beauty by the hand - buy… because the tone is in the air as the spider spins her web - her… on a hill, the breeze wrapping you…
the land stars blink and rise under the pale pink sky singing as they dance to the tune of each others hearts
it just comes to me o yeah, that would be good in a poem so i write the line
the self sabotaging squirrel planting trees with in trees destroying his own dwelling or constructing his future weakening the trees bring bugs
in the dream if you get killed you are dead– but are you really? in reality–