You are my diary, keeper of secrets;
My pint of tequila, obliterator of past.
You are my center, sacred space of focus;
My birthday, my deathday, my moments between.
In a world of uncertainty, you are reality.
In a world of delusion, you are but dream.
You are the second I take before jumping, the sharp intake of breath before I free fall.
Copyright 2010
Advertisements
Celestial Leftovers touched me.
I fail to understand how someone who is chaste can be so in touch with phantom lovers, rascally do-badders and well -deep, love warped emotions……unless you are channeling Johnny Depp in your non-existent dreams.
Ha! You are the only one who likes that piece. Perhaps it is the fiery red head. Anyway, thanks for the comments. My only response is: I have a vivid imagination!