:: January Midnights ::

I wish I could forget about structure, grammar, coherency, audience, form, function, decency, and censorship and just....write.

:: True expression is always costly. :: The Source. | Reach out to me. ::

[::..Curiousity..::]
:: Sated.

[::..Other Transgressions..::]
:: Why?
:: Because.
:: I said so.

:: Sunday, January 04, 2004 ::

Sitting behind me, he softly talks
And gently brushes through my locks
With the reverent care men only bring
To their most beloved things

So lifts he in lightly callused hands
My delicately drifting strands
Though no different they from all my ilk
He handles them like Thailand silk

Brushing glances o'er my head
And smiling at my ruby threads
He leans to press his kisses there
And braids his love into my hair.

~Fox
:: Fox 3:27 PM [+] ::
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