Tuesday Jan 03, 2006

0
He says...
Imagine.
And all of the people
were home again.

Sinatra was there,
his showgirls
bedazzled
by a year
full of newness
and sorrow...

Confusion-
I want to be in New York,
I want to be in the city.

So desolate,
so allive...

A New Year.
A Finishing Dream...
A Touch.

Fitting in
was like feeling good,
and I want to know
how well we fit.
(How you fit in?)

Angel,
I can feel the mercy
in your sighs...

You are city
on the rocks,
a pinstrip smile
laced and insatiable.

Bury the butterfly
as it is,
don't destroy the wings.

Let today
be a sign
for the coming
of tomorrow...

As love poetry
may stop and start,
let this never end.

My song
is every song,
come over now
and I'll sing it all to you...

I know you won't,
but still.

Let me wait a little longer.

Let me know
that the meeting
is not worth mention.

Let me know
that to feel this way
is useless
and wrong.

Avoid the question
with another question.

Let me see no end.

Isn't this what I wanted after all?

~Jessickah
drama:
I like that.
method:
Thank you so much for your kind words regarding the embodiment of my mind's churning through tongue flickers to finger taps. The rhythm is always vital to a uniquely personal expression. I can feel your frustration and resolve against the hollow and spiteful, your fire, you burn brightly as well. Radiant soul, reaching exploring, perhaps masked to the charms of one's own familiar symbols of beauty. So begins facination, the secrets of many avenues to survey. I thank you for the inspiration, for at times the taste is dust in my mouth. The body/spirit tend to wither in neglect or attack. Revitilzing source energies really takes a heavey rerouting of mental and physical resources.
I feel you feeling me and the heat's bold glow grows brighter.

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