If it’s all the same
And time was standing…
Alone, and not moving
And my fingers were pressing the flame
Intertwined and demanding
My flesh: needing…grooving
I can make the believe
See it with the eye in my mind
Pirouetting all of the in-betweens
But differently I do perceive
What has been outlined
The decree, the artificial machines
With love and grace
With each line on my face
With memories I can’t ever erase
Oh life! Such a sweet and bitter race
And all I long for is to be in that place
Whimpering, and gone without trace