Sunday, September 12, 2010

Creation

Plan. Executing.
Waching enjoyment
Head back, eyes closed
Breathing
Gasping pain, pleasure,
Something in between?
Above and beyond?

Always moving
In sync, but no balance
Tilting, but never letting
You fall

Limits,
"Don't-step-on-the-lines"-kinds of foolishness
Boundaries
To me they are fog
To be cleared away,
By spring rain or tears
Or a well placed slap
A word
A touch

Watching you sleep
How did you get here?
Oh yeah, I made you.

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