Sunday, 8 August 2010

Thought 5

The warmth of your hand, placed comfortably.
Effortlessly creating patterns, earthing reactions as it filters through.
A bloom of euphoria, sprouting streams of yellow and green in the dark but, soon clouded.
still I remain.



Hating my actions. Wanting to be there. loving your growth.

I shall applaud from afar.

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