Ms.

Her shadows beckon the ultimate return
Birthed and bothered by a call of the voluptuous luminescence
Must get back where, the curves are no question
Where I am the exception
Fly on the wall not even
Just a small speck of sight that gets to witness
long legs and a fitness
Hurdling miles per second with no precipitation

Ms? Knows her own revelations
And teaches me slowly, surely, like prophecy
We know I am destined for her plateau
Mean time though, the imagination runs wild
with every possibility of places to caress her ineffable silhouette
Now I am free to roam
And we, eventually, will not become, but will be known
As one

Published by Kevin J

I think I write to try to explain moments that I don't truly understand. That's why I have a tendency to be wordy. The closer I am to minimalism, the better off I am. I also do it to keep records of what I was thinking at certain periods of time, so some kind of footsteps are left showing me how I got here. Looking back, it seems inevitable that I am where I am now; couldn't have been anywhere else. I don't have any goals for the future, except for trying to enjoy it. I'm the opposite of most people I know; I no longer want to know what is coming up next. I just want to create the road and ride, or not create it and ride anyway.

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