Friday, February 6, 2009

Come Hither.

Tell me your stories and I will listen.

Your entire geography and my eyes will travel through it.

The maidens and the villains,

The significant other who gave up on you,

A colorful imagination and a brave mother.

What are your stories,

Your folklore,

The makes and breaks of you.

The lines in your hands, where do they say you have been,

What have you seen,

Let me see with my hand.

Tracing your jungle, moving ferociously,

My passion is vulgar,

And my sex perverted.

This care is a sickness,

My love an addict.

Tell me your stories and I will listen,

And hopefully be free.