in the crannies of ripe contentment.
it was the spring of wistful skies and immaculate sunrises.
words and promises, tender terminals of memories to be added
to this dank dense head--finally here, awoken.
The winter kept me dormant.
when cyronotainment killeth me.
The april mornings were always the fondest.
greeted by crisp air and wisps of white cloud.
it's as if everything were sterile...sanctioned pure.
our bodies no longer giving into human desire.
we together somehow need nothing---we live off each other.
will i ever age, if this is it?
from the top we see it all.
what took so long for me to see it this way.
the morning frost danced upon my skin
as stark smoke kept me awake.
the kisses of elation--delivered by only him.
the sounds of life remind me it is real.
tender soul, i am yours.
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