That Of Love
I wash my face with wet hands of God, air water love misting from the wind, we are that of insects crawling up the splintered fence, antennas wander around in wonder bound for the greener grass of heavens.
We enter into make-believe where each thought is so pure and true - into white light where we hover in poised sun shed, fragments of peeling paint chipped skin disintegrate our past, a soul anew, with a heart like butterfly wings.
I am the water in air, misty separation - devil impaired. The beauty of it all is something that can not be felt on this earth. The heroine supplement drug love is but a hair in the breeze, a beautiful scene resistance seen in the distance of a dream existence.
We enter into make-believe where each thought is so pure and true - into white light where we hover in poised sun shed, fragments of peeling paint chipped skin disintegrate our past, a soul anew, with a heart like butterfly wings.
I am the water in air, misty separation - devil impaired. The beauty of it all is something that can not be felt on this earth. The heroine supplement drug love is but a hair in the breeze, a beautiful scene resistance seen in the distance of a dream existence.
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