Sometimes she would scream, like plastic-wrapped lamb chops in a grocery store; only a month prior. ~ Mark Thompson
Passion drives everything that we do. From our work, our play, our love. Feel it in your core, and go out and explore; your true self. You are exactly who the world needs.
“Good morning my son.” said the Sun.
She was a wolf in sheep’s clothing and oh what a journey that was for her! You see, as a wolf she had no way, to sheer the sheep ending in decay, Up against her skin in dress of red, of callous, dripping, sheepish bled. So she would tear apart the flesh of sheep, one…
And when his lips touched hers, the snow below them vanished, vanquished by the heat of wicked tongues at play. And when her lips touched his, And sparked a new beginning the sun began to slowly weep as it passed to it’s last day. ~ Mark Thompson
She wore the lips he would make love to forevermore. ~ Mark Thompson
He found the smile she lost. ~ Mark Thompson
She is the single, four-leaf clover in a field of three. ~ Mark Thompson
Her body was the fretboard to his fingers. ~ Mark Thompson
She was the echo that never returned. A quiet feather floating the soft, morning breeze. Her silence rang out like a town bell at noon. ~ Mark Thompson