Goals



My gold,
is to be,
as the waves,
to give, and give, and give,
until I glisten,
to let go
of convention and conviction,
to be moved,
by the wind.

Friday, September 17, 2010

I don't know,
where to put you,
you're an odd shape,
in my soft hands,
I can only hold you,
when you let me,
But even then,
it's dangerous,
like raw muscle,
I can feel the potential,
of violence,
but this time,
you show mercy.
You move,
and I let you,
slither away.

No comments:

Post a Comment