#mobyus99

I can feel the rain run down my face cold as the heart felt fleeing, endless loops of your image reminds a joy awarded from pain.

What did you think, while you abandon your other half - a soul split in two dreams in black.

It can be a lesson of wits leaving... as the rain runs on through.

Thinking of your long hair - is it wet like mine - rain runs on down to a bottom (it all ends in a pool).

Soaking wet as my mind floods of emotion from a heart sinking toiled of a weight of you.

I can feel the rain fall all around clouds built from thoughts of you.

If she looks back at you, does it mean she’s thinking of you.

The look waiting, still waiting for the look, her eyes that say “Hi” with that lasting meaning.

Then, she walks around the corner, lost, where was it - he thought it could happen. And yet now, he knows the truth it is what it was. Nothing more than a random chance. The ships in the dark, she is the one controlling destiny. As they say (but who are they).

He, thinks there’s still the embrace waiting while meeting at the station. Moments hidden in isolation of two enjoying the passing. It could come to be.

God does he want it, but and always a but. Was it a look back. Did she Actually look back at him after all this time. A communication, meaning her way to say. Yes, I am here and you are too. Let’s meet and move on with the time left to enjoy each other.

Seconds fade but hours last while days build foundation.

Take it and use it and become better with it.

All along - build the days to be the purpose of a future enjoyed.

Inside a dream above 39 thousand feet thoroughly feeling faded about the week's colour, spades closing in on the lovers moment in thought. Dangerous and fleek to the advertisers "method", but peddled by the very same. Never foreshadowed by perfume, taste equal to the senses with desire full to leave no pain. Letting go of the society norm, I welcome the words.

"Lovers all need warmth, but close to cold".

This from a thought no developed than a breath starting in the belly (perhaps full of gin), we need to experience a new, to feel the uber voice full of will - with passion of moment, and to never settle for a "Parked Car" - idling without gas.

Endless engines, singing one tune, while never shifting "gears". The now is present and time is burning - consuming half empty tanks (74/75).

A thought from clouds measured only by its start; and hopefully no end. Romantic souls touched by innocence, pleasure intertwined with beauty, that is love. A true symbol of wars reward taken from enemy. While never considering the intangible, glory or pain is the same from this battle. The shift is full of spine, its cover cradling lush words, rich freshly typed 'these' readers ready to read, a lovers story being written in view, their battle more powerful and bright as light with endless harmonics sharing joy.

The species must survive, never to fail in delicious pursuit, while designing the mould, finding two souls living through its application; lust discovering truth between two connected "matched" organisms. Pure heavenly moments when together, they dare not dream of end.

The calling is strong - bound in code all share, initiating the loops endless cycle, all characters locked within the same book. While learning a new language - is lovers love.

Nothing is more than I am with you... thriving to keep the species alive.

Never settle for store bought - while eating warm soup.

Two paths between equal distance - I choose the shortcut and start a new.

The Bach notes, arranged with precision taken from coded universal language, teasing molecular structure - reverberate, emotion fuels, flood heads - keeping history beats, a period classically designed, romance embraced “class to poor”, extremes rejoice from both divides.

Pounding keys (black and white), smooth as jazz yet known walks to the river’s note - stitched structure constructing joy into thought, as children walk on Ice for the first time, sliding with timid steps, slide to laughter. The playful music hammer memories back to colour. Some more than others, heir to passion, lovers touch, the music traps “a moments-point - just, while shared heat is felt. Quickly beating symphonic trance building human sweat (laboriously felt).

Musical sunlight burns frost - melting to a calm.

Song playing “fresh air” quickly as a bees flight stumbles beyond sight.

Structure tickles porous souls. Anything shaded; washes pain, relief from pressure.

Those interstice places a human mind can erupt, idea or desire, here it all falls - a bodies rhythmic consumption of life. Gaps towards flaw - progression of a end it enlists hear raising towards height lightly taking you to internal climax.

With an end note.

I never thought of the sound of my heart as a ghost haunting my concisious - missed feelings with a future, darkened by a hidden peice. The love will never flow through the water, trickling creek as it flows down the mountain as if the constant pounding of time moves it onward to the ocean.

Much of the flow evaporates on the journey, dried up as a unspoken word. Never shared or mention ‘“love”....

I know that the time is to follow you towards the sound. The haunting. The sound will always be silent, goes the man who loves you, blocked out of the tender soul’s retreat.

“A heart is silent” - nothing heard all gone towards the dark.

You’re never going to see the love that was left on the table as a hand well played but never shown. Folding too soon and settle for the reflection of a mirror, filled by a dull film on its glassy shine in return.

“No smile shown in its reflection”.

Changes never made, time made it older and now I am aging (thinking of my last words)... painful reflections on the back side of the mirror.

“No one looks behind it to see through the view”.

All pretty words just to say.... like an unplanted rose... moving onto another hoboes ride without a ticket.

Lords cry.... never did ask for a lot.

Found friends and lost a few - the poeple are all confused but wake up anyways. Another dark is becoming light.