“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.