In the midst of love and loving, where do I really stand?
“My hands lay as sheer rocks lay shattered against the water.
Water that brings me to the side of the oh so slippery cliff.”
With each movement against your skin, I feel as you.
The tremble, the mass of emotion that my fingertips want more, but at
The same time have enough with you. The tear that encompasses my face
I can assure you is filled with grace, compassion, lathed with love.
As my hands tremble as I move I cannot let your presence escape the cubicle of forte night emotion.
Ha the graced emotion is nothing. Even with the oh so eccentric music I try and portray through writing. Means quit latterly nothing. Sad to say.
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