Heat making love to your body
when you want to give it no access.
But it beats the distress, and the leftover mess.
Wanting to write about the passion of spring,
but it wilted to playful ashes in the summertime heat.
Playfulness played out; no extensions tonight.
Glass coated in dust and the glare of the past
that still sparks your reflection, imbues it with loss
and a luster of hope to do better next time.
*butterfly slippers is happy now*
got her bsq fixx on *smile*
and WOW is there a lot to feed on here.
amazing poem Mike,
and way cool that sweet sen, inspired this in you. I was just telling her I think you two should write one together.
Her and I are gonna try it IF my muse starts speaking to me again.
Well, Im fluttering off to the next offering.
IM GIDDY to have 3 tonight.