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| Slam |
| You message the univers' spine the way you twirl through time and leave shadows on the sun. My love is the windsong. If it is up to me I will never die, if it is up to me I'll die tomorrow a thousand times in an hour and live seven minutes later. If it is up to me the sun will never sees to shine and the moon will never sees to glow and I'll dance in the sunrays of the moonwaves and bathe in the yesterdays of days to come. Ignoring all of my afterthoughts and preconcieved notions. If it is up to me it is up to me. And thus is my love. Untainted. Eternal. The wind is the moons imagination. Wandering. It seeps through cracks ripples the grass explores the unknown. My love is my soals imagination. How do I love you? Imagine |
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