simply waltzing through the spyres
of this land known as great years
im holding your hand and told its forbidden
to love and that love itself is beautiful
their dramtic irony or oxymoroness was incredible
whichever which i didnt mind
i was lost in ur eyes
eyes that show real color
like i told you
eyes that hold their color
eyes unlike mine which fluxuate with the blood thats pours through them
im quite shy with you i once thought
not talking only smiling
im quite obscene when i kiss you
not breathing only loving
through all my loss of depth
and depression
and self foreboding insolent
dramtic irony
i look at you and cant believe
that im on my way to writing again
i know this is gaudy
and stupid and has no strength
im tired and worn
the grooves of my heart fit easily into your hand
your hand i hope is better than the iron claw of
criticalness..
i dont know when but im sure its soon
ill be writing and showing my love
on scratches of paper
and this fuzzy computer screen
all over again
rejuvenated and forceful
like my lips on your lips
'embracing and kissing of lips'
they cant stop us...
imitate us or break us..
we are only as strong as we can hold hands
as we fall deeper and deeper and deeper
in my catalyism of floating words englossed across cloud 9