I found you in a field of dreams, wrapped in a fine gift paper of hope. You took my hand and led me up to the gates of heaven before we dove together, birds of a feather into the pits of hell, and soared through a wrath of hate only to realize our wings had been tasted by the flames of fate, and in some spots eaten like a delicatessen. Therefore, I am guessing, a feather for your thoughts, some ink in the eye, embracing our pure blue sky, as we dream our dreams, rip, tear, and cut at the seams of life. Word for word within heartfelt bleedings of strife, often outwardly sent, forever, is a word, together, each wing bending at the run of nurturing a herd. A blade of grass green to see, upon an open range, nor wicked or wondering, as wildly strange, just human, simple, yet extremely complex, within each strand of experience a change or notable suggestion of sex. You've been there and so have I, now let's nix this bridge and burn that past. Throw open ourselves to futures kiss, and yank down our pants for the finality of this. So you stand and I sit, who really gives two cents? Break the skin, shake the emotions, you'll bleed, as I, to soak lotion soft, upon a world of greed. In the end it is us we need, reproduction a survival creed drop for drop much lust we feed, thus cuss freed. Jealous I am not, nor you for what I got. Just want; desire, necessities on fire for each other, lover to lover. Again and again, and again to discover, not hard to understand, woman or man, opposites do too attract, and love or necessity as we human must be, you see it all finds its way back, if allowed, fool or foul this is how, a fountain of youth, metaphorically in two, see, her as he. Them, they, us, and we, the gift to procreate, meet you in a stew; or rather mysterious a brew for our next date. © September 28th 2005 R.S.T.H. AKA Wolfspirit All Rights Reserved. (Thank you for the view today, comments, suggestions, and or whatever you wish to share are welcome.)