by-

silver waving glass
of ocean ||
you called wet love
?
dancing skirt
flinging flowers
all from hair
all in
m e
-o
uch of an if
& your skin eating
all the light beams
of a horny moon
who is she
no other like

more than I should know
she is more dream than
what more becomes

the true soul-mate

:: 06-29-2015 ::