Passionate Fortune, beware, for seeking such simplicities as these would be ground down into embers of brightly colored papers.
Burn, burn, and beware of what is to come through that billowing door that you ever so gently left open for the childhood breeze to come running down the corridor and through your shades, escaping your dancing hands on the piano keys, jumping from press to release a pink on black, on white.
You touched me tender over in the corner. Twist my strings and play with the thought of together.
Lips, skin, sink in, inside me, and inside you there is something beautiful- something being as vast as planets orbiting around in dark uncharted coarseness.
Farther still than the street beyond the hill leading onward and onward until it's out of element, but not out of way.
Not with you, no, you are always in some way.
And I would chase you round this goddamn room trailing you like scent if only you wanted me to catch you.
Breath catches in my throat on your exit into the ope