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LunaGreyhawk
LunaGreyhawk
Dangerous Mind
United States
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Joined 8th July 2019
Forum Posts: 610

Of Me, For You

LunaGreyhawk
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DanielChristensen
DanielChristensen
The Fire Elemental
Tyrant of Words
United States
30awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 27th Feb 2016
Forum Posts: 157

The Magician

“He who [awakens] must suffer. And even in our sleep, pain that cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us, by the awful grace of God.” Aeschylus

..

“Alright,”
I said,
With a deep inhalation, and
Exhalation
Of breath,
Cleansing, gathering the
Calm
Swell of
Immutable force,
That would be
Necessary

Let’s talk
About then,

A single
Solitary
Moment,

To which my
Wings
Are pinned

Stars boiling in the
Black,
Dehiscing
Radiation from a
Churning
Maniacally
Episodic
Core

Currents
Serpentine
Susurrations
Coiling
Circuitous
Avenues,
Across
The hewn,
Driven
River
Bed,
As if lowered
There,
Exactly
There,
By some
Lunatic
God’s
Titanic
Arms

Her radiance,
Reaching through
All the worlds
Obtusely
Gruesome
Blindness
And
Across arbitrary
Increments of space
Time,
To magnetize,
In polarized
Alignment,
To burn and
In a perfectly
Reciprocal
Mirror,
Finally
Resonate

Beginning

A beginning,
Many,
One,
Is reliant upon certain
Presuppositions,
A presence,
Within
A pathway,
Within
An arrangement of physical
Environs,
Which are confluent,
Within
A system of sequences,
Which are predicated upon
Circumstances,
And the awesome
Creational vector
Of choice

Book I,
The Principle Force of Manifest Time

Consequence

Once upon it, I
Who, in youth, was
Akin to Troilus, whose
Perfect moment
Wears the shadow
Of subsequent
Sorrows,
Even,
As it
Unfolds,
And too soon
Lost, and is
An oft sequenced
Reiteration,
Oh my brothers

Cressida, she was
Not,
She
Was herself, that I
Could perceive
Only
Within her relation
To me,
As was my
Myopic
Folly,
Oh my sisters

Wind
Upon the waters,
Sweeps our
Hair into
Dervishes,
We kiss
And kiss
Right through

Cold
Prickling
Goose pimpled
Flesh,
Ignited by
Some
Inner
Fire,
Gaining
Momentum,
As it
Breathes and
Reciprocates

All those
Autumnal
Stars,
Laughing in their
Distant
Hollows,
Daring
Guesses
As to which,
Had already
Expired

All those stars,
Akimbo

Lets talk about now

I come across a well
Made sign,
Offering a thousand
Dollar reward, for the
Return of a cat,
Great detail given
In appearance,
Closing with,
“Don’t hurt him
He’s all I got”

And I feel
Pain,
To an extremity
That,
I wonder,
Is it normal
And
As I continue
On,
I wonder
Is it normal,
If it should
Fade,
Into the background
Haze,
Just as quickly

Let’s talk about now

Instead of walking
Well
Around,
I stop
And talk
To a homeless man
Who’s called out
In greeting

I am afraid

Not because he may be
Desperate,
Diseased,
Unhinged
And otherwise dangerous

I am afraid
Because, in a few short
Minutes of
Discourse I will
Soon
Discover,
That his choices
Are not unlike
My own,
Our circumstantial
Fortunes,
Have varied

It is not long
Before
I see him
In myself
And myself
In him,
It is not long at all
Before
I
Awaken

I walk into the store
And buy a sandwich
We split
And when I hand it
Down, his
Smile
Through the leathered
Surface
Skin,
Splits wide to
Reveal
A jumble of
Battered teeth,
Haphazardly spaced and
Angled in various
Directions,
Reminiscent of an
Ancient graveyard,
Whose earth has since
Shifted,

And his smile
Is as beautiful
As an infant

I am afraid,
Because love
Swells me to
Bursting, and if
I should
Die,
In this instant,
Perhaps I’ll wake
In paradise, or
In the same place
As always,
But with an
Entirely
New
Perspective

Perhaps I’ll become
Someone else.
Someone
Unafraid

Lets talk,
About the girl I saw
Sitting on a
Swing set,
Sitting so
Swathed in
Alone, that
The metallic
Creak of the
Chains,
As the
Memory
Returned
To me,
Later, within the
Contemplative
Absolution of
Silence,
Seemed
To be
Coming from
Somewhere
Inside me,
As if
My heart
Were composed
Of rusted cogs,
Of interlocking
Teeth,
Grinding through
Their designated
Labours,
Without passion,
But,
Without
Pause

I am a paradox of
Once lived moments,
Superimposed,
Upon living moments

I am fearlessly
Afraid
And I wonder
If that resonates,
I wonder if I am beautiful

I wonder if you can see his
Smile
And her melancholy
Pendulum

..

Three sisters of
Time, stir
Their still
Wrought
Iron
And transubstantial
Magnesite
Cauldron,
Which
Burbles it’s many
Circular
Throat of
Miasmatic
Voices
Across the
Bow
Of both
Dimly
Demurring
And fiery
Combative
Constellations

Book II,
The Principle Force of Manifest Awareness

Contemplate

The metaphysics of presence
Are beyond the
Establishment
Of fixed points,
Up is
Black,
Down
Is central
And the purpose
Is manifest
In timeless
Being,
In birthless
Birth,
In deathless,
Dyings,
In laconic
Coils,
Within a sheer
Skein,
That confounds
Our
Collectively
Tautological
Thumbs,
Fumbling
Attempts,
To unravel

We kittens do so
Love
To chase our own tails
And limber up
For a climactic
Pounce
And we are so
Beautiful
In our frail
Garb,
Hands
Clasped
Around his
Grail
Cup

And I am here,
With you,
Aching specter,
In this,
Living
Moment

..

Kettle drums
And a circle of
Souls
Are humming
Vibrational resonance,
That
Begins at the
Eternal now and
Returns
To the most
Recent
Ekpyrosis
Cycle

Book III,
The Principle Force of Manifest Intention

Concentrate

The form emerges, in paradigmatic
Dimensions, from a specification of
Focus,
Exactingly
Dispelling the
Myth,
Of coincidence

Hi, folks

When it comes to anything
That you
Will ever see
Of me,
Within
The crisply
Folded
Confines
Of a document,
I, am
Utterly
Fucking
Fearless
And I am love
And I am broken
And full of terrible,
Passionate intensity

And I am misunderstood
And I am overlooked
And I am love
Rising,
From the wreckage
Of everything
That broke me,
Was everything
That woke me

And I have a voice
And I am
My voice

And I am awake
And I am
You
And you are so
Fucking beautiful
That it guts me,
To look at you

And I,
Am that
Vessel,
Which holds
Nothing

My love,
No fear has

And I,
Am no longer
Sitting
Amongst
The Lotus Eaters,
Sweetly
Dim
And
Stupefied
By ill
Advised
Consumption

I choose

And I,
Am the fire elemental

..

Books are lying
Supine,
Upon their mortuary
Shelves,
Beneath the
Train of my
Trailing
Fingers,
Which lovingly
Trace their
Spines,
Leaving,
A bit of acid
And trace
Oils,
Behind

Poetry,
Sings its
Musics, lifts the
Fluted bones to
It’s avian
Appendages
Lovingly crafted by
Daedalus,
For some ill
Fated
Flight, to lips
Which, kiss
With unmoored
Fury,
With fires
Of
Terrible
Intensity

Waters are
Burst cocoons
In every instantaneous
Resuscitation, that
Occurs,
Without pointedly
Intractable regard for
Timeless
Time or
Swiftly
Overswam
Swarms
Of crescendoed
Preambling
Birthless
Birth

Waters are deaths,
That leap
Like children,
Eroding
Every
Obstacle,
With manically
Episodic
Persistence

And airy
Airs
Are playful
And destructively
Creative,
In their palatial
Corridors,
Ripping
Thunders across
A hairline,
Of plasmatic
Unmoored
Photons that
Flash across my
Grin,
When I recite
The oaths
Of the augury,
Returning with a smell
Of
Ozone
And wisps of
Willows,
Trailing

And hoary
Earth with an
Aged frown,
In whose
Gnarled fists
Are ground
Our bones
Into meal,
Within the hot
Houses of the
Potters
Hearth,
Beneath the labours of
The potters
Centrifugal
Wheel

Book IV,
The Principle Force of Manifest Elements

And wheels,
Lace their cog
Teeth
Within,
And wheels
Upon
Wheels
Are
The most
Efficient
Energetic
Composition

Cycles,
Circles,
Circuits
And confluences
Of sequence and
Consequence,
Acting,
Reacting,
With systematically
Intrinsic
Force

And I thunder along
In my black
Magic
Garb,
To give you the
Glorious
Contemplative
Pause,
Of purely
Distilled
Fear

And I never tell you
Why

And I cast my
Sweet
Spells
Of white magic,
For your amusement

Because I love you

And I am dancingly,
Consistently,
Concentric

But the museum of the
Mind, is so much more
Than recollection,
Than a dusty and carefully
Swathed
Catalogue,
Of mortuary
Shelves,
It creates from the available
Elements, it anthropomorphizes
The unfamiliar
Into the beloved
And the terrible, it
Casts
Its innumerable suns
Into the black
Boil,
To generate
Completely
Miraculous
Abstractions,
My sisters,
My brothers

The most elementary concept
Conjures,
Abjures,
An intricately woven
Network of related
Reasoning and
Elaborately assembled
Logical and logistical
Architecture

The mind has a language
Developed,
To examine
Itself
And the fabric
Of the interconnected
Consciousness
Of the cosmos

And we are the light
Reaching
Outward
To the light

We are discovering
Ourselves

..

Lets talk about
The last time
We were together
Before the quarantine,
The bangless
Whimper of our
Poor time,
Called us to the
Four
Corners,
To this,
Global
Contemplation

Book V,
Aggregate Force, Under the Purposeful Auspice of the Magician

Conclusion

A conclusion,
One of many,
Is reliant upon quantum
Superposition,
An amalgam
Of purposefully rendered
Elements,
A bricolage,
Of the astrophysical,
Psychosocial
And supermundane

The bonfire was hissing
As it bit through
The bark,
Its rough scales,
Yielding, into
The deeper saturation,
Of the decapitated
Tree,
When my stepbrother
Decided
The hour had arrived
For children
To find their beds

I hand him another from
The freezer and scoop
Them up, under
Either arm,
Squirming and wailing
Protests,
Before subsiding to
Enervated
Mutters

The boy burrows in from
The foot, of his
Bed and his
Phone light
Shines out,
Beneath
The covers

I let it be

Carry her onward
And
Sitting Indian style
With
Female child,
She says,

“Tell me a story,”

And it was
Less
A request, than
A statement of the
Inevitable,
The amalgam
Of time,
Awareness,
Intention,
Manifest,
In this moment

“Alright,”
I said,
With a deep exhalation, and
Inhalation
Of breath

Ever the showman,
Ladies and gents
;)

“Let’s reach back
Into the dusty halls of
The musee’ imaginaire
Once again,”

I pause and assume a
Hyperbolic
Pose of serious
Contemplation

“Once upon a time, I
Caught a shooting star
Between my palms”

I raise my arms, and
Slowly bring my hands
Together

She reaches up and
Yanks my elbows down,
With sonorous peels
Of laughter

“She came to sway,
Came to sigh, and
Of course,
She came
To shine”

I, who, in youth,
Was something
Like Troilus,
In my poor
Tattered
Raiments
Salvaged from
The sporadically
Savaged
Fronts,
Of former
Wars,
Appropriated,
Appropriate,
To my
Particular
Iteration,
Raise my palms
To the glow
Stars, glued
To the ceiling
Overhead,
Arranged
In constellations,
Of our
Own
Devising

I slowly draw a finger
Across,
From
The Winged Lady,
To
The Magician

“Against my chest,
She
Came
To rest,
And I wish
I could say
That she had come
To stay,
But, alas
It was not to be,
So, for a spell,
Instead,
Of a lifetime,
I held
Her close”

I took and held her hand, then

“And lamented, even then
It’s sweetly winsome
Temporal
Ache
Of impermanence,
As I was listening
To the calm
Immutable
Force
Of the river”

A few more details,
Snatched
From memory,
Rendered, with a bit
Of artistry,
As she lay down
And got comfortable

And into slumbers
Rabbit hole
She slowly
Fell,
Soon after

And as I sit
Swathed
In contemplative
Silence,
I swim
In the wake
Of that laughter

..

The Magician
By
The Fire Elemental

“We are approaching the time when the artwork of all the world of [humanity] may be looked upon as one, as infinite variations in a single kind of mental and social effort.” Ernest F. Fenollosa. Epochs of Chinese and Japanese Art: An Outline History of East Asiatic Design
Written by DanielChristensen (The Fire Elemental)
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adagio
adagio
Dangerous Mind
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 151

Dreaming A Little, Little...

It might be spring or early autumn
dreaming a little, little,
of the little dirt road
and Heaven's little boutique  
putting a little spring into my step
with a little dream, more than dust  
creating a little space 'neath the willow    
it might be spring or early autumn
dreaming a little adventure...
that I hope will last  
dreaming a little, little,
 of the little dirt road
Written by adagio
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da_poetic-edifier
da_poetic-edifier
Damon
Dangerous Mind
United States
11awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th Aug 2016
Forum Posts: 242

Cries Til Sunrise

I've come a long way since that fateful day
The day that GOD chose to take you away
My emotions use to sway towards ideation
But that sum didn't add up in the equation

Depression unsucessfully pulled me asunder
I couldn't see clearly like the Stevie Wonder
But I'm a Soldier with or without the uniform
I've earned my stripes and weathered storms

My heart's been torn but it's starting to mend
The pain's are subsiding but they'll never end
I bend but won't break for weight on my shoulders
No pain, no gains; I'm sane and getting stronger
Written by da_poetic-edifier (Damon)
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Jordan
Jordan
D.O.C.
Twisted Dreamer
United States
6awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 4th May 2022
Forum Posts: 69

The Story of "Me"

"The large majority of human beings fancy life is a single-player game."
-- on the board game of Reality,    
the countless losers,    
naturally including humans as well as nonhumans    
   
*      
   
Trapped deep here underground, "Me" is a being full aware    
"Me" rather somewhat rapidly is running out of air --    
and "Me" unlike most beings yet still rationally knows    
in time -- and oft in Pain -- each being belly up but goes.    
   
*    
   
a dedication of Respect    
for    
the Rational Intelligence necessarily preceding    
Empathy --    
in addition to a life of meaning and purpose    
   
a revolving helios rhyme menippean satire on    
the ego clichéd    
named "Me!  Me!  Me!"    
   
january, 2023 -- business as usual for    
the rhymester romantic    
of the verse sans substance
Written by Jordan (D.O.C.)
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Wafflenose
Wafflenose
Ellie
Dangerous Mind
United Kingdom
17awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 1st Aug 2021
Forum Posts: 1028

Imprints of the past

"How do you do it all?"  
"Badly," I answer honestly.  
"Do you EVER switch your brain off?"  
Nope.  
I have no clue how I'm perceived.  
Maybe people think I'm trying to be Wonder Woman,
or that I'm hyperactive and eccentric,
or a show-off
(introversion notwithstanding).  
They say I seem bipolar—  
so many ideas, so little sleep—  
it must be true, right?  

The reality's ugly.  
I cannot stop, even if I wanted to  
(which I don't).  
The past taunts me  
and grasps at my future with tainted tentacles  
which have already left their traces  
on everything I think and feel.  
It's possible to defy statistics,  
but history looms large,  
formidable even, in  
foreshadowing future events.  
 
And so I run.  
I've spent decades running,  
attempting to channel  
an overactive mind  
into anything positive;  
anything at all.  
Climbing mental mountains,
learning languages,  
mastering instruments,  
devouring puzzles and books.  
Being the busy person  
who you can rely on  
to get things done.  
Keeping still lets the thoughts  
take me back there  
and gives the past a chance  
to contaminate the future.  

And so I run.
Written by Wafflenose (Ellie)
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wallyroo92
wallyroo92
Tyrant of Words
United States
131awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 11th July 2012
Forum Posts: 1564

To My Future Grandchildren and Their Children

(and Their Children’s Children)

My grandfather died shortly after I was born
And my father passed away when he was sixty-eight
We don’t know how much time we’re given on this earth
So I’ll tell you a bit about myself now that I’m forty-eight

I’m sure you heard from your parents I was a band nerd
But when I went to college I put my music skills away
I mean I killed (not to toot my own horn) I was really good
But ignoring my passion left me dejected and vague

I majored in business wanting to make a lot of money
But the funny thing is that I never reached self-actualization
Though words were my forte and numbers made sense
Meandering through life left me in constant stagnation

Sure I loved, I laughed, I cried and hid secrets all around
I broke a few hearts and I got mine broken as well
Then I took to writing like I did when I was young
Pouring my emotions through both heaven and hell

See kids I lived through a war and then I went to battle myself
Trying to please everybody except the one who mattered most
And though I tried to keep my rage quiet I spilled on many a page
Not living to my potential made me feel I was becoming a ghost

As I got older I finally found myself and I discovered my voice
I can connect with others through verse, with reason and rhyme
Now I could gather my thoughts and figure out my purpose here
Even when the answers are enigmas that will make sense in due time

I never claim to be perfect, in fact I’m the most flawed person I know
I’ve made mistakes and paid for them dearly at whatever the cost
Life can be a cruel motherf... but it can also reward for good deeds
Believe me, I tried be a good human and found what I once lost…

I have a zest for life even though I don’t know how much time I have
I won’t take it for granted so I compose and live through these words
You’re the future I’ve dreamed so I’ll tell you before I leave this world
You’re my blessings from above, my little loves my heart is forever yours

Due to circumstance, I didn’t get a chance to know my grandfathers
Now I try to stay healthy, to live long enough to meet all of you
Just know that I already love you even though we haven’t met yet
I helped raise good kids who will be great parents with lots of love too

If you want to know me read my verses and poems way back in time
Explore the laughs, the secrets, the love old grandpa Wally left behind

Written by wallyroo92
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mel44
mel44
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
8awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 3rd Mar 2017
Forum Posts: 232

Who am I

I am madness
often insane
igniting a fire
from where I came
 
Burning a past
easy excuse
far too toxic
no longer of use
 
Bravely releasing
not destined for me
but lunacy required
so that I may see
 
Creative temperament
essential to survive
enamoured by its lure
where it is I thrive
 
I am chaos
this, my wish
turmoil allows
me to flourish
Written by mel44
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Daevileyes
Daevileyes
Lost Thinker
Romania
  profile   poems   message
Joined 21st Jan 2017
Forum Posts: 5

home

 
like a cockroach dipping into the moist of the darkness
I cradle within your numbness
stay when others would leave
whisper words you wanna believe
I am the parasite brewing in the hollow chambers of your heart
eating it up tearing you apart
I am pain
I am misery
I am everything you hate to be

I am every thing you've lost, every thing you thought you had
the part of you that's a little bit more dead
with every night that passes by
I dismember the lie
chop its limbs piece by piece
cease the disease
I am pain
I am death
I am everything you wanna lack

I feed your fears
embrace your tears
your insatiable lust for secret dreams coming true
I know what defines you
the monsters hiding under your bed
the silent sorrow in your head
I am emptiness
nothingness
I am the loneliness
that never leaves
that never leaves you alone
I am home
Written by Daevileyes
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Josiah
Josiah
Twisted Dreamer
United States
2awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 8th Aug 2016
Forum Posts: 22

End Game

Debut
Oversoon, fine
Striving, provoking, burning
A Man of Few Words
Headstone
Written by Josiah
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poet Anonymous

gothicsurrealism
gothicsurrealism
Daniel Long
Thought Provoker
United States
5awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 26th Nov 2018
Forum Posts: 132

Confessions of A Schizophrenic

I step into this poem with a premonition -
I will let the world know who I am.
What shall I find beyond the fog of uncertainty?
What have I failed to recognize in this life?
Well, this is not a life; this is not a dream.

How porous is the wall
that divides my mind?  
That divides reality from dreams.  
Oh, but the dream world allows me to feel
what I thought was never real.  

In this world, I feel peace and serenity  
and all my characters welcome me
with open arms and a thank you
for the noble heart
I’ve always felt morally obliged to offer.  
  
On the dreamy side of the wall,  
the sun drapes its warmth over my face;  
its rays blanket my skin - shielding me
from the cold and bitter side of reality.  
Oh, how I love to imagine a normal life.

Always drawn to this thinning barrier,  
I’ll jump up and cling to the edge, peering over.  
What a strange world reality is!
I’ll see figures in the distance, laughing, conversing.  
Their silhouettes eerily presented in the moonlight of veracity.  

I can feel the chill
of reality assaulting my face.  
Oh, what a bitter world!  
None of these bodies seem to mind the dimness,
the cold; they’re happy. How?  

I’ll stare beyond this crumbling wall.
Now and again, someone will stop, turn and stare at me.  
I don’t know what they think or feel.
It’s too dark for me to know.  
I’ll see the whiteness of their eyes; I know they stare.  
 
One day two silhouettes strolled along.
With faint voices, they gazed in my direction
as their pace slowed and voices faded.  
Then a roar of laughter charged my way,
ricocheting, and echoing across the world of reality.  

In the cold, lengthy plumes of breath emerged.  
One shook his head; the other stared at me;
their white eyes piercing the darkness like two arrows.  
The wall, however; shielded me… as it always has.  
I’m home here. Nothing can hurt me… no judgments.  
 
I gaze and ponder at the real world.  
Frigid gusts of rejection
attack my exposed inner self;  
their vicious assaults quite overpowering,
as I felt the warmth of acceptance behind me…  

A warm hand came to rest upon my shoulder.  
I turned to the light to see
a sun-lit face, washed in a flush complexion.
Belonging to a gorgeous person.
Those eyes… oh, those eyes drew me in.  

The smile thawed me.
A tear of contentment
flew down my cheek.  
The lips of that perfect smile spoke to me,
“Come back home Daniel.”
Written by gothicsurrealism (Daniel Long)
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Razzerleaf
Razzerleaf
Fire of Insight
United Kingdom
20awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Sep 2019
Forum Posts: 412

Second skin

Six months it took to grow my hair long,
a biker boy look to feel I belonged,
I needed the clothes, reflections of me,  
something grubby and ripped at the knee.  
 
So I waited until my brother got fat,  
and took the tight leather from off of his back,  
his old biker boots I saved from the bin,  
the cobbler laughed when I took them in.  
 
Steel plated cleats complete with new zips,  
fixed the scuffed leather, all was hand stitched,  
a nervous how much, for the work he had done,  
son I couldn't charge you, I've had too much fun.  
 
A bottle of bleach poured over new jeans,  
the family bath had never been so clean,  
rinsed in cold water to stop them from rotting,  
so bleeding tight they stopped me from squatting.  
 
A jumper came next for under the leather,  
knitwear from Nan to keep out the weather,  
brown wool she bought, so what could I say,  
I would have to wear black, some other day.  
 
All on a journey of bikes beer and friends,  
forever an image of myself to extend,  
caught in the fibers a DNA of my youth,  
even the drug squad could use them as proof.  
 
The jumper I kept, its upstairs in the loft,  
sometimes I lift the lid from its box,  
the first thing I smell is just musty and stale,  
then I get cigarettes and a hint of brown ale.
Written by Razzerleaf
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ConsequentialChaos
ConsequentialChaos
Twisted Dreamer
United States
  profile   poems   message
Joined 7th Oct 2022
Forum Posts: 8

Do You Know Me? Because I Don't

Who am I?
Well that depends
On the hour at hand
The month perhaps?
Day?
Or the year maybe?

I am charming
I am strong
I am disagreeable
I am weak

I laugh and cry
Sob and moan
The same as everyone else
Although I'm very different

I know who I want to be
But I don't know who I am
What I can be
Or how to achieve it

But for now I'm a brother
Son
Friend
Mentor

My writes teeter on light and darkness
An eloquent eclipse of lyrics
Made to walk the line
From calm to insane
To bridge the gap between love and hate

I am but a simple poet

A simple man

But I am no simpleton

I am the way God drew me
Written by ConsequentialChaos
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adagio
adagio
Dangerous Mind
United States
3awards   profile   poems   message
Joined 15th Jan 2019
Forum Posts: 151

Naked Swallows

Like naked Swallows
this is how I was born
leaves are our only cover
in the lemongrass
and no need for armor
abandoning the heirlooms
and the ignorance of man
now stripped of my veil
nothing else to reveal
for the love of you
and naked kisses
in the lemongrass
Written by adagio
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