Dissipating

For most a memory is always fading...fading into the distant realm of security. My art is in this. If you can comprehend what this recolection is you will be able to see inside my soul. Seeing is NOT always believing...Believing in what you feed on is sometimes what it takes to see.

Friendly curses are pleasant when you bleed into me. Setting fire to my wild fire. I breathe deeply, taking this all in. Into what I need to become to become whole with the purity of freeing myself. How interesting you may admire the wealth of thought.

I amaze the process of overcoming self centered in you. Penetrating the sound waves; waves of time within your soul. Blessing the moment of truth with your dirty mouth.

Feeding all the elements of curiosity for the temporary feeling of lust. Busy to notice the novice penetration of your happy ending.