The spider of your hand
Invades my privacy
Your yearning
A solid taste on my tongue
The blood of your desire
Pulsates through my being
I rake my hands
Through the salt and pepper
That covers your head
I am a mess
Uncontrolled
Uncontrollable
Who was it that said
There has to be an end
It should be infinite
The spiders
The invasion
The collision
It should be infinite
How we become infinite
How we unite
The forces of who we are
Into one throb
Into one peak.
No comments:
Post a Comment