conjuring a process.
this effort boils over from an eternal pot,
skimming thoughts, flipping pages, writing books.
interpreting the perfect sentence structure
to blow your mind, or steal your heart
the wheels in my head, ever turning
carelessly blind, at the expense of my esteem,
sometimes, i exhibit said talents of characteristics
only to have my ego return, bruised to me.
some wounds never heal, but better serve as a reminder
of the places you've been, and the person you were.
life teaches us lessons that help us to
understand the value of genius, and allows those who would
appreciate its rarity, benefit from the opportuntity.
is your mind open enough to notice me?
beset by all extremes, through a wide array of feelings
i can flood the page with ink and unveil the makings of my dreams.
words act as guides to imagery, with the skill of a romantic
i'm captivating, playing off desires we all aspire to acheive,
pulling heart strings, laughing.
could you know my smile, what it seems?
bare me your flesh, in which i could sink
my teeth,
give me your name, to keep me afloat
as i melt away, when you kiss me,
always, ever
on the verge of these impressions
captured perfect
conjuring a process.
"words act as guides to imagery, with the skill of a romantic" yes they do..and what a beautiful picture you paint...romantics...they have nothing on you, you are in a catagory alone...above the rest..
floating away in your words~
christie renee