I know youas the space knows
the note
as the cup knows
the coffee
as the morning
knows the bird
for what is one
without the other
what is a leaf without
a tree
a petal
without a flower
my hand
without
yours
Trev with pen as Em sleeps. Translated from the original Hynerian.
Words as lovely as the image, neither as lovely as you. :-)
ReplyDeleteYou know, I haven't put my pants on yet today. Should I wait a little longer? :-D
ReplyDeleteYour writing is as seductive as an ounce of sevruga caviar, my pet. And I'd do almost anything for an ounce of sevruga cavair. I dream about it, drool over it, want it :)
ReplyDeleteAnnie, I could say the same for your writing and that lush and lustful picture you sent to the AARP. Your imagine is still stuck in my head, both of them. :-D
ReplyDeleteI like this one. Do you mind if a pen a response and put it out later? You really don't have a choice, so would you like it here or there (your blog or mine)?
ReplyDeleteThat's right, baby! And without me, no cup and no coffee!
ReplyDeleteLMAO, touché! :-D
ReplyDeleteHee-hee ! It was lush and lustful, really ? (blushes madly, thrilled.)
ReplyDeleteAnnie, it was all that and more. You know, my imagination knows no bounds and you have given me much to twirl. :-)
ReplyDelete