Bob’s world starts rocking the moment the woman she’d grown with, believing to be his mother tells him in a weak, frail voice "I am not your mother, Bob". There are no moments for questions as he watches her die, leaving him with a question that sends his already troubled and sick mind to the whirls. In his desire to find his roots, he is about to discover facts about a mother he’d witnessed as a little boy and which had troubled him even before he could think, and which eludes him as he grows up. How will he handle his anger when he discovers that the mother-screwer who killed his mother is the same bastard using the very girl he’s vowed to die for?

I want to parallel park my life near your love.

Short poem about losing yourself to passion’s flames.

The levels of love require thought as well as action.

Descriptive tale of lust and satisfaction.

An intament telling of two lovers.

Passionate imagery.

Poem about spoken word flow.

Intelligence is plainly seen, bright as diamonds, emerald green

Within the eyes like sparkling lights, bubbly wines, candle lights.

A possible scene plan for a movie or short story.