Herded cattle, eyes on glass, ears plugged in. A bustling train โ so empty; the walking dead. What’s your fear? Fear of contact? Of culture? Of difference? Of the unknown? Smile. Try it. Just once. Make a play. Open up. Closed. No response. Darkness fading. End of the tunnel, Bringing forth the bright. Sunlight ripples…
Tag: connection
Oxidation
She was the oxygen to his flame. ~ Mark Thompson
Smile
If she could see herself the way he does, that smile would never leave her face. ~ Mark Thompson
Song of you
How can I write the song of you, when words in rhyme cannot express, clearly divulge, nor deeply carress the sweetest of connections shared. For a pen is just an object used to scribe a language known from past. Yet the song of you is only known in a language new, yet to be shown….
Wet Paint
Never allow loveโs paint to dry. Let it ooze down sweet upon your all, allow the rain to soak and mold itโs skin, in peaceful bliss brought from within. Allow it to pool in conditionless flow, like your blood and mine so entwined. Let it bleed the edges, enrich today, let it drip forevermore at…
Sunday morning
She was a Sunday morning sleep in ~ Mark Thompson
Waning Sun
When his lips touched hers the sun wept for the first time, leaving a crust-laden scar across it’s face. A star now slowly dying, their star now in creation. ~ Mark Thompson
Entwined
When their fingers touched, he didn’t just hold her hand. She became an extension of him and he, an extension of her. ~ Mark Thompson
I wish I was a bee
I wish I was a bee so that I could kiss my face into your delicious bulb, making love to it intensely, ’til your sweet nectar starts to flow. I wish I was a bee so that I could tickle your sunlit petals, with the winds of busy wings, sending vibrations deep down to your…