Stages

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  • Loss

    Stages
    Im reading lips there horiziontal, silently there speaking words of pain.
    silent she stares, I love to bare the motion so strong. Breaking in at stages her strive making mounds, prickle hair. My arm chills for the needing one. Her words so sinfull battering the truth i stand, setting serval scenes to paint a lie she drips into the hurting eye!

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    Chaos128 commented on Stages

    08-18-2009

    A short and fearless stream of consciousness, and a pointed last line.
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    The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

    Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

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