A beauty on the outside,
Slowly dying within,
Take me somewhere today, I haven’t been.
Don’t look at me in splendor,
Approach me with interest,
Center my thoughts, find my grin
When a woman is pensive,
Much like a rose,
Sat quietly in the light, beginning to grow.
Come to me she beckons,
Velvet to the touch,
Warmth of your heat, begins the death of me.
To be on display for your charms,
We’d take it no other way,
Unfolding petals, disarmed.

My Falcon

Born to be an adaptor,
Forever changing his surroundings.
Nestor, speedy protector,
Friend to the nomad.
From the beginning, central Aisa,
Yet, your homeland is here.
Powerful employment is yours,
To know more, a feeble goal.
Intercepting me,
Yet, I continue proding.
I see through your armor,
Lost in the marvel of your eyes.
The sight of you, my dear,
Worth every sacrifice.
I could find you anywhere,
Dynamic speed sets you apart.
Take me with you,
I’ll provide a view,
Encouraging the peak,
Of the hightest mountain.
Destinations you’d rather not seek,
However, you’re trying.
Flying beside me,
Practicing your speed, agility.
I shall continue to watch,
from the ground, for now.
Awaiting your caw,
which will beckon one day.
Peregrine Falcon, you suit me,
mustache and all, honorably.

Writing Process Blog Tour: How I Write

I was asked to be part of this week’s Writing Process Blog Tour by Sharon Bonin-Pratt. Under a simple description of being “Sparked by Words” she takes us through her writing process. Shari’s blog is everything sparked by words could possibly mean. She nominated Jacqui, Ilene and myself to share our writing process this week. I learned a lot by reading Shari’s post. Please, give yourself some time and read her blog. She truly has something to share.

When Shari asked me to participate, I simply lowered my eyes, nodded in agreement and said, “Yes, Ma’am.” I knew Shari and I would be friends early on. Shortly after reading that she and her husband live in a eucalyptus forest in Southern California, I thought, “There is such a place? Too cool.” Shari, one of my very first followers, has sat beside me through my first year of blogging as a true supporter. She is a friend, I thank her for believing in me, and for trusting that I have valuable experience worth sharing within our community.

Now, for the record, y’all, we’re about to read more words in one post than I’ve written in six months on Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister. I hope you make it to the bottom. Anything more than a hundred words is pushing it for my faithful crew, as I’ve trained them to believe that I am now a reflective poet. One who doesn’t have a need for this much explanation, but truth be told, I’ve loved writing this post. It’s been a nice break from 3,000 words a night for my book.

Part of this blog tour is nominating three bloggers to write a post on their own writing process. All three women accepted my nomination which delighted me, because I didn’t want to have to go begging door to door or blog to blog. I have enough desperation pouring out through my poetry. Look for individual posts by these three fantastic ladies on Monday, April 28. I chose these three women, because they have shown such amazing support, but also because they work hard to show their personal investment to their own writing journey. I can easily get behind that sort of determination. I respect their goals and encourage them to keep moving forward.

Heather B. Costa

My name is Heather B. Costa and I am an aspiring writer who one day hopes to have her own book published. I only began writing seriously just over 12 months ago and it has gone from being a hobby to a way of life.

I devote as much time as I can to learning my craft and developing my skills and I am now taking my first serious steps towards achieving my goals and becoming a published author in my own right.

Kate Loveton – Odyssey of a Novice Writer

Aspiring novelist. Avid reader of fiction. Reviewer of books.

By day, my undercover identity is that of meek, mild-mannered legal assistant, Kate Loveton, working in the confines of a stuffy corporate law office; by night, however, I’m a super hero: Kate Loveton, Aspiring Novelist and Spinner of Tales.

My favorite words are ‘Once upon a time… ‘

Won’t you join me on my journey as I attempt to turn a hobby into something more?

Stacilys – A God Coloured Girl in a Grey World

I’m just a simple girl that is passionate about being relevant and making a difference in this world.

World traveler, lover of bright sunny days, experiencing cultures, good friends and conversation. I love my God and love my family.

I don’t believe that I have the Truth, but that I have a relationship with Truth and want to be closer to Him.

Canadian, born and raised in Vancouver, BC. YWAMer since 2000 and have traveled and lived all over the world –Hong Kong, China, India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Afghanistan, Turkey, Germany, Argentina, Australia and The USA.

I moved to Brazil in 2002, married an awesome “Baiano”, Daniel, and we have two adorable kiddies, Caue and Hannah.

I am certified in fitness and nutrition and conducted physical conditioning classes while working with an arts and evangelism team and schools. I am also certified in TESOL (Teaching English to Speakers of Other Languages) and TEYL (Teaching English to Young Learners).

“A God Coloured Girl in a Grey World” is my blog where I write articles based on my faith, post fitness routines, recipes and other health and wellness stuff. You can also check out a bit of my music at

Okay, we’re half way done. Defeated yet? I can now answer the four questions that come along with the writing tour. I’m pretty wordy, so let’s just get to it.

Four Blogging Tour Questions:

1. What am I working on at the moment?

I’m currently working on poetry, but more than that I’m working on being Audrey Dawn, the writer. Does that make sense? Are we okay with that being part of my writing process? Imagine spending years trying to be the person everyone thought you were, because it made them so happy. I put on a brave face every day and made everyone happy, happy, happy. I smiled, I laughed, I helped, I counseled, I encouraged, but I never cried, showed fear, admitted failure or said no. I’m currently working on doing everything I’ve never allowed myself to do publicly. Well, almost everything, gesh.

Releasing the control I put on myself has opened me up. It has created the poet I’ve always wanted to show. I was afraid of the emotion writing publicly would allow. The thought of people finding me too weak or sensitive has become less and less of a fear. My writing poetry, and allowing it to be read, has helped me work on myself. I have a few very loyal blogging friends who continue to push me to submit my poetry online. I am also writing a book, which I am extremely proud of at the moment. I’ve stayed quiet about my book writing. My inexperience in the writing world coupled with my lack of professional writing credentials created a fear of inferiority years ago. I can honestly say now that the voice is not winning. I feels fantastic.

I went to college to earn a degree in English, which was coupled with a creative writing emphasis, and topped off with a social science minor. What do you suppose I do with that? Live in a cardboard box reciting my poetry. I’m a few steps ahead of that actually, so I’m living the dream. Yeah, so that means I can write people well. I’ve studied them a long time. Have I allowed the writings out of my hands in order to succeed as a published author? No. This is the toxic voice in my head doing its best to discourage me. My followers have done a great job of overturning that voice this year. I am forever grateful for every word of criticism and encouragement I’ve received. My plans to prosper within the writing community has gained momentum.

The poetry I write is therapeutic. I have forgiven, loved, hated, longed, prospered, achieved, yearned and dreamed through healthy emotions, which I have had inside my soul all along. Very few I shared with anyone, because as a controller of myself, I chose to safe guard my heart from ever being let down. Sharing what I’m working on is a process I am currently battling, and winning. I think it shows through my poetry, as we all felt that fantastic love, then the desperation, and currently the recklessness of my protagonist, Amelia. I’ll be sharing my book with you soon. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

2. Why do I write what I do?

Here I sit writing from a public library in Galveston, TX, after a rough night out on the town with friends. A quick bit of down time for me, as they do a little finishing up. Last night, a group of us ended the evening at a drag show. Yes, it was fantastically entertaining and an eye-opening experience. I was with one of my dearest friends and a few of her closest friends from college. One, of which, is trying to survive cancer. Her diagnosis is why they were all together this past weekend, and the reason they’ve been getting together every year since she was diagnosed. I began my evening humbled for being allowed inside their tight network. I watched how their communication flowed with ease. I am fully aware that it is the devotion to their friendship that has created their life long bond.

Watching them interact helped me to reflect on why I chose to start my blog, but more so, why I have switched gears and began sharing poetry. Experience, emotion and truth are what any solid friendship or relationship is built on. Correct? These are the universals to which we connect ourselves to others, I think. Consider it. The beauty of this is that we don’t even know the friendship has approached longevity, until relationship has arrived in full bloom, and we’re miles down the road of emotional investment. Then one day, we happen upon a cherished memory that proves our devotion to one another and seals our mutual bond. I write my feelings, because everything I’ve seen and read has in some way impacted my thoughts, emotions and my own life. I want to share my writing with a community of people who are investing in the writing process and in themselves .

3. How does it differ from others in the genre?

I am a performer, and I thrive on attention and feedback, but when I’m not in a crowd, I reflect a lot. I can go hours not chatting with anyone. Lost in a world of reading, writing, or visualizing its what I do. Currently, my blog differs from others of the same genre, because I am also teaching myself to be a better communicator. Truly, the only way my blog differs from others of this genre is by the timing of my emotions. One day you may identify with me wholeheartedly and feel a connection that could last a lifetime. The next day,  you could hate my guts, so at best our relationship has a survival rating of about 50/50. Are you willing to take those odds? I totally am.

4. How does my writing process work?

My writing process has always been the same few steps. Yes, I’m a creature of habit. I have a very short attention span, probably an undiagnosed ADD and dyslexic issue from childhood. As an adult, I’ve adapted very well. I attribute that to my ability to speed read. There is no other way when you’re working with a short attention span, in my opinion. Music helps me focus on my task, so headphones are a must when I need to keep from becoming distracted. There’s also something to the light pressure I feel from having them on my ears. Headphones tend to center me. Yes, it could be a gravity issue, I hadn’t thought of it. I have found myself in a writing fever only to notice that I’ve had nothing playing through my headphones for hours. Yes, this really happens.

Before I get to that euphoric writing place, I visualize by staring off into white walls, usually as I’m doing this I haven’t written anything down. What I do find myself producing is pages of doodlings. Letters, numbers, pictures, shadings of light and dark images are all found decorating my pages before my writing begins. I’ve often considered posting my doodles along with my poetry or stories just to see if anyone could enlighten me on my perfected madness. Yes, I’m completely comfortable admitting that this process of mine can’t possibly be normal. Tell me if it is, please. After about thirty minutes of warm up, my mind calms and everything I’ve held inside for the day pushes itself out.

I know, phew, that was rough. What I have found, in all seriousness, is that if I do not sit down to write everyday I become ridden with anxiety over how quickly I can clear my schedule so I can write. This is an awesome feeling inside of a dramatic setting, because I want to write and share my thoughts with you. I’ve never wanted to freely share my writing or what my mind is thinking. Not without feeling like an attraction at the zoo, anyway. My friends, this is something I would have never thought possible a year ago. My writing process is alive and well.

You Don’t Know Me

Another shot at a writing prompt from Mr. Don Charisma – Disapproval . Hope you enjoy! I am a bit nervous posting this one, but in true form…off the cuff it is. This will be my last poetry post until Monday. Enjoy your weekend! ~ Audrey

I see how you look me,
Disappointed in my choices,
Sad for my soul.
Dismissive of my presence,
Within these four walls.
Hoping to stir inside of me,
Brutal melancholy.
Desires inside of you,
Need for me to change,
My thinking, my ways.
You eye my golden cross,
Which rests upon my breast,
A true devotion for His cause.
I will battle your urges,
Which I sense,
To rip this symbol from my chest.
I am His,
He is mine,
We work together, He is Devine.
You must take yourself away now,
His power will defeat your goals.
The intensity of you watching me,
Well, it seems rather bold.
Eye for an eye, if truth be told,
His proverbs from times of old.
Mustn’t strive to make those crumble,
Christians alive and well will meet,
Swords of Glory, til you stumble.
Back to where you came from Devil


Clear Views

Lost and wandering
Inside, our cold cabin
I live in darkness
Weakens me
Yet, yearning to inspire my soul
A long winter of sadness
Had unfolded his wings
Today, terrors occasionally tread
A fighter, I must become
Stop the nightmares
Bring out the sun
Freedom, for everyone
Your grace, defeating
Finally, happy heartbeats
Blessed to have your light
Bright and flickering
Inspiring, too
Just look through this window
See what it proves
I could easily get lost inside you
My window, my savior
I’m so delighted
Look at what you’re offering
A tree filled with green
Isn’t he so pleasing
I love the way he arouses me
Allows me to think of Spring
My Devotee, once again
Flowering, my soul
A proper thank you
My one and only goal


An Argument – Part 2


“Take the blindfold off, my dear!”
“Just a minute. Not much further now. Step…step…step…oh, wait! Knees, up. Okay, step…step…step…steeeeppp.”
“You’re doing this on purpose aren’t you? These don’t feels like true steps I’m walking on, Ma’am.”
” Well, they are, Mister!”
“I’m slowly losing my patience, Lady..”
“Relax. We’re here. You used to be more fun, you know?”
“Here! Take this dumb cloth. *looking around*  What? You’ve got to be joking…”
“What’s the matter?”
“We’re at the park. Not the quilt and the clouds again! You tricked me! I knew those weren’t real steps I was climbing.”
“Oh, just lay down on the quilt, you old goat. We have fighting to do.”
“I want to begin by saying that I am not looking for anything in those clouds today. Rats, I say, to all elephants!”
“This is where we do our best thinking, my dear.”
“No, this is where you bring me to try and change my mind. I recall this spot, and our discussion perfectly. We fought my dear.”
“Now quit! I think this time we’ll be more productive. Have some faith. “
“We are never productive, my sweet.”
“Yes we are! Why just yesterday we agreed on naming our slug. I say bravo for that feat. Wouldn’t you, Sir?”
“I don’t know. I can’t remember back that far.”
“You don’t remember yesterday, but you can remember the spot where we first fought?”
“Well, yes, so it seems…”
“How romantic, Dear. “
“No, I call that self perseverance. “
“How’s that?”
“One should remember their way around a battlefield.”
“This quilt, my mother made, is not a battlefield…!”
“Wanna bet, Hun?”

I think these two have a story to tell. We’ll be checking back in with them from time to time.

Their first discussion can be found here, if you’d like to read their first fight.

I know its wordless Wednesday. What does that even mean…



The flow of music
Our notes,
Whispering towards me,
Offering a slow start.
Forever in a trance,
Waiting for a crescendo,
Unknown to the Universe.
Did you notice?
I don’t miss the words,
Those that haven’t been written,
Or spoken in so long.
The beat carries on,
The deepest bass,
Like your darkest place,
Would be easy to find comfort there.
Texas beach, cool night air
Whisked away
Blood pouring from aching eyes
Arms wide open,
Although miles apart, I fear.
Dreaming of your piercing stare
As the notes end,
it is then,
I will weep.

Don Charisma’s Prompt – Imagine : Thanks for bit of inspiration this afternoon, DC. I may have to try to do more of these prompts. Makes creating so much easier when I have a word. I just closed my eyes and, well, here ya go WordPress Family.


Your Hands

A working man’s hands
You raised me, astounding
A vision of brokenness
Yet respect found us, thankfully
Father, years of mending misgivings
Holding hands, you love me
A working man’s hands
A brother to me, oldest sibling
Strong, brave, forever loving
Growing up, you fixed our needs
Hearts, cars, music, dreams
Your hands beside me, waiting
A working man’s hands
Found you, awakening my dreams
Outstanding similarities, just breathe
Waiting patiently, my journey
Imagining and releasing all fears
Your hands, I’m offering them peace


Love Plays On


Inspired by Otis Redding’s “Sitting By The Dock Of The Bay”, this weekend’s evenings with cherished friends and my friend, M. Zane McClellan’s poem, “Love Me Like Lyrics”.

Love songs play on,
Their aging beat strong,
A melody only they can recall.
Lost are the days,
They dreamed and played, fondly,
Stuck inside aging minds, bodies.
Time not a friend,
Yet, deemed humbly,
Music’s sweetest story.
Songs of the sun’s powerful embers,
Provide blessings,
As their forever continues.
Hurricanes couldn’t divide,
Some tried, no compromise.
Sadly, love always working,
And approaching goodbye.
Earthly obsessions,
A late night masterpiece,
Tunes their melody.
Final days found holding,
Caressing skin,
Feels good to ache again.
Love’s battle cry,
Ceasing time, unworthy.
Yet, honorable and deserving,
Love never ending.
One hope remains,
With fingers intertwined,
Staring at the bay.
Nothing his lyrics forget,
Lips craving,
Body savoring,
Sunset providing a proper ending.
Her soul breathes and sighs,
She is his, no one could deny.
The dock pulls at them to wait,
Fate would have it no other way,
Life perfect this moment, this day.
Love’s promises made,
If she leaves first, meet at the gate.
His eyes will know hers,
Final resting,
Heaven’s green.
Welcome, Eternity


Rolling On


Pursuit of dreams
Like the fog at dawn
Rolling on
Eerily, they watch
Why do dreams chase
Honing their place
I offer nothing, officially
Still they consume, thinking
I feel them wrapping around
My needs
My desires to prove
I am everything,
He created, beautifully
I can be me
Soul, mind and body
Never losing sight
Cherishing Heaven
My goal
Forcing authenticity
Those who contradict,
Try to detour, I’m told
The wicked one’s goal
Keep true
Allow them a view
Inside your heart and your mind

Rocky Beach Sunset Pano – Happy Birthday Audrey :)

Audrey Dawn - Oldest Daughter Redheaded Sister:

Ask and one just may receive from, Mr. Charisma. Isn’t he adorable. Thanks for the beautiful sunset, DC. A perfect way to start my evening. I have celebrating to do tonight! Cheers!

Originally posted on Don Charisma:

This one’s for one of my longest readers  Audrey Dawn  … She’s, well, part of the family almost now :) … and …

It’s her blog’s 1st birthday today – yay!

She asked me for a sunset, so here’s a sunset …

It’s four portrait shots merged with tender loving care in Adobe Photoshop CS6 …

There’s some writing in the sand, my Thai is not very good, but I think it says “Don Charisma you are awesome, we love you !” … but heck I could have got that wrong, so don’t quote me on that :)

Oh, and parental guidance is advised if you click on Audrey’s blog, she has, ehem, sexual content :twisted:

Taken in Thailand (c) Don Charisma

View original

Happy Anniversary (Sexual Content)

Yep, Oldest Daughter & Red Headed Sister is a year old today!! I received my seal from them last night. I was aware the anniversary was approaching, but I’m shocked at how I feel now that WordPress has validated me. Tearful, I suppose. A huge thank you for reading this blog, my friends. I am humbled by your encouragement and love. Thank you for pushing me to try harder.

This year has been amazing. I have found so much joy in creating each post. I am grateful for every word that has been written. I’m thankful you have read and enjoyed my simple thoughts. I’m also thrilled that so many of you have stuck with me the entire year.

I remember being content and satisfied over my first follower. I could have stopped right then and there, actually. Now, there are over a thousand of you. Do you know what that does to me? You could push me over with a feather, as I reflect in amazement.

Thank you for allowing me to sit amongst all of you and for letting me to grow beside your creativity. It has truly been an honor and a privilege.

Now, in thanks and celebration I give you a quick short story. This is also the fruition of a promise I made to myself, a fulfillment of sorts, to push myself out of my box. To show, who I am as a writer, all in the name of romance and love.

How the anniversary night of two people madly in love should start out, I believe.

Enjoy! Love and best wishes towards your creativity today,
~ I love you~ Audrey
*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

“Hey, Baby. Did you make that chocolate cake for me?” He asked with skeptical seduction in his eyes, while standing in the doorway of the exposed kitchen.

“Welcome home, Love. Yeah I did, for our anniversary, actually. I know you’ve been working hard all week on your deadline. I thought I would attempt to do something nice. Maybe we could just stay in tonight?”

He watched her stare down at the floor, while folding a towel. Simply a prop, he realized, to mask her true thoughts and needs. His head jerked up in surprise, as his body became aware of her pulse, “What? You thought I forgot, didn’t you?”

“No, honestly, I just wanted tonight to be quiet. Relaxing.” She loved when he nodded at her, as if all-knowing and fierce.

“I know you better than that, I think,” he warned, while slowly walking towards her side of the kitchen. The smell of candles burning tickled his senses, but those were more for her than him. He loved her delicate desires.

With her heart producing a vibration strong enough to be heard, she backed up against the oven, which was still warm. Her phone rang.

“Let me answer this call. It could be important,” she said. Her glowing features revealing too much excitement, as he immediately narrowed the distance between the two of them.

Her needy eyes were forced to look into his, as he grabbed her by the waist, “No, you’ll stay right here.” He took the phone from her trembling hands, and threw it against the exposed brick wall of their studio. There was absolutely no need for that mundane distraction when he was home. He’d easily replace the iPhone tomorrow.

“Yes…okay,” she replied desperately while taking a deep breath in, and allowing it to escape slowly through her quivering bottom lip.

“Now, answer me again. You made this moist cake right here for me, didn’t you, Darling?”

She watched him place his finger into the center of the warm cake, and slowly draw his creamy finger back out. Circling the frosting lightly before pushing it in a second time, pausing as he searched her body’s reaction. She closed her eyes, as the sensations took over any control she had left, “Yes, I did. I made the cake.”

“For me! Say it was made…for me!” He forced out, while probing her lustful eyes. Insistent that she claim him with her admission, he stood strong.

“The cake is for you,” she whispered, as four of his fingers found rest on either side of her jaw.

“It’s all mine?” He interrogated, while placing his middle finger in her mouth. He knew she loved chocolate. He loved nothing more than watching her beautiful face light up with passion.

“All yours,” she forced out. Her tongue and lips readily sucking his finger clean.

He looked around the tidy kitchen, and then quickly picked her up and placed her on the glass stove top. Heat attacked her favorite blue jeans instantly, and it swiftly advanced towards her already tingling skin.

“Stove, hot?”

“Umm, hmm,” she moaned softly.

“Look at me!”

Her yearning eyes found his in a rush, “Yes.”

“I prefer my cake and my lady warm, you know.”

She sighed voluntarily, knowing it would only lead to trouble.

He reacted by confidently pulling her arms above her head and back towards the tile behind her with speed. The act allowed for a perfect arch, created by her body and his resistance. This made him very happy. Breasts up and out, effortlessly standing for his attention.

“Don’t take your eyes off of mine. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she blinked. Then she blinked again, because she knew she could get away with a little teasing. The act allowed for his continued frustration with her. Parting her lips, she allowed a brief laugh to leak out.

With one hand holding her arms over her head, he used the other to gently grab her neck. Coaching his thumb to begin allowing pressure to her lovely throat. Just enough force that she knew he was in complete control of her. His calloused hand was shaking with need, yet easily reacting to her mind’s desire.

He breathed quietly. Calming his urges to rip her clothes off, he silently reminded himself of the process she prefered. He thought of her need to play. To dance in a submissive rhythm. He would be the harsh and dominate man she needed, while his insides weakened in her presence.

Her submitting eyes continued to stay on his, however, she made a quick move to pull herself closer to the heat he was radiating. Wrapping her legs around his waist she confidently gathered him inside her thighs. His face above her concealed breasts, yet close enough that he could see her excitement, as he looked down and into her shirt. Her arms over her head, him between her legs and their eyes locked inside each other, as they slowly progressed towards love’s wild and promised passion.

Oh, how he loved the look of her body in this position. In a low moan he finally spoke, “I will kiss you now however I want, wherever I want, then I’m going wish you a Happy Anniversary. Enjoy this tender act, because after, I’m going to lay you down across this cold counter. Do you understand?”

“Yes, my love, I understand…”

“May you never leave me…”

His lips hard and demanding. Her lips longing and ready. Passion igniting over their love story.

*** *** ***
Thanks for entertaining my creativity this Friday morning. Have a wonderful and productive day.

Blessings ~ Audrey



I can’t compete with time
I can’t compete with journeys
I can’t compete with photographs
I can’t compete with wordings
I can’t compete with holigraphs
I can’t compete with simple rhymes
I can’t compete with that which drives
I simply want to live in our world
I simply want to breath the air
I simply want to feel your stare
I simply want to matter, above all
I simply want to allow myself to fall
I don’t need your hands
I don’t need your eyes
I don’t need your pleasure
I don’t need your lies
I don’t need your love
I don’t need your number
I don’t need your covers
I do need your thoughts shared
I do need your emotions to lap deeply
I do need your mind weakening me
I do need your cravings
I do need


Love’s Umbrella

Protective covering,
Found under an umbrella.
Cloaking two people,
A lady and a fella.
Lost within a street full;
Barely a notice;
Eyes for each other,
Devoted focus.
Approaching quickly,
My eyes shy.
This is their time,
Watch them pass by.
Hear their exclusive music,
Linger in my mind.
Notes float up,
My heart aches for you and I.
Their eyes connected;
Not a wink or a blink,
Allowed for isolation.
Love’s obsession.
Trying not to stare:
How do we get there?



Beyond time there is forever
I’ve been exclusively drawn
Past our realities we’ve been chased
Address: water dreams
No permanent place
White sails our home
Crystal clear memories to come
Lost lives we’ll count them,
One by one
Doing life without you, not an option
You’ve won
Follow me into forever
Each amorous night beginning,
with devouring our setting sun
Nothing but blue ahead of us
Leave the green behind
Teach me the sea’s sweet melody
Only symbolic option I can find
Nourishing waters will feed
Your Pisces, me
Poseidon will greet us,
Just beyond the horizon
The logic behind our fate
I was his
Now I’m yours
Dreamlike state