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Fear and Hope

There are a thousand places I’d like to be kissing you and endless ways I’d like to say to you the steel bonds of fear stand in my way.   Choices and readings of mice or men failing me then and now colour it grey and flatten every hope why not the fear? 31 Dec […]

Touch.

Touch.   Splits skin and resolve. Knife meets ripe plum.   Touch.   Tumbles body and soul. Surf pounds clear sand.   Touch.   Fires belly and heart. Hand feeds pure desire.   Touch.   Scours skin and bones. Mouth polishes raw stone.       29 Aug 12