Tongue-twisted,
Writhing bodies,
Ecstasy breaking,
Every jour I feel you.
The morning bird reminds me of what’s coming.
The connection.
The spark.
Us.
I have never felt this way,
Drawn to you,
Needing you.
Holding you.
To grip toi is passion.
Purest of its form,
Attentive in its own way,
And it breaks barriers.
Sonic booms have nothing on us.
The Grand Canyon too small to expand with us,
The Burj Khalifa too small to grow with us,
And the oceans do not have enough depth to describe us.
Despite that, we are endless.
Infinite.
Always,
And forever.
Tongue-twisted,
Writhing bodies,
Ecstasy breaking,
Every jour I feel you.
The morning bird reminds me of what’s coming.
The connection.
The spark.
Us.
I have never felt this way,
Drawn to you,
Needing you.
Holding you.
To grip toi is passion.
Purest of its form,
Attentive in its own way,
And it breaks barriers.
Sonic booms have nothing on us.
The Grand Canyon too small to expand with us,
The Burj Khalifa too small to grow with us,
And the oceans do not have enough depth to describe us.
Despite that, we are endless.
Infinite.
Always,
And forever.
Writhing bodies,
Ecstasy breaking,
Every jour I feel you.
The morning bird reminds me of what’s coming.
The connection.
The spark.
Us.
I have never felt this way,
Drawn to you,
Needing you.
Holding you.
To grip toi is passion.
Purest of its form,
Attentive in its own way,
And it breaks barriers.
Sonic booms have nothing on us.
The Grand Canyon too small to expand with us,
The Burj Khalifa too small to grow with us,
And the oceans do not have enough depth to describe us.
Despite that, we are endless.
Infinite.
Always,
And forever.
Tongue-twisted,
Writhing bodies,
Ecstasy breaking,
Every jour I feel you.
The morning bird reminds me of what’s coming.
The connection.
The spark.
Us.
I have never felt this way,
Drawn to you,
Needing you.
Holding you.
To grip toi is passion.
Purest of its form,
Attentive in its own way,
And it breaks barriers.
Sonic booms have nothing on us.
The Grand Canyon too small to expand with us,
The Burj Khalifa too small to grow with us,
And the oceans do not have enough depth to describe us.
Despite that, we are endless.
Infinite.
Always,
And forever.
I lay on my bed,
daydreaming, listening.
Listening to my mind telling stories.
Stories of myself if I was an actress,
an auteur ou scientist.
It always seems so close, but just out reach,
daydreaming, thinking, listening to my mind.
please, cant they come true?
if i try hard enough
maybe they will
toi cant just wish upon a star
that only takes toi halfway
do the rest yourself
ou it forever remains a daydream.
life is a funny thing,
toi have to work for everything,
even if toi dont realise it.
it is one long journey,
and death is not the end.
it is simply the begining
of an even greater adventure.
daydreaming, listening.
Listening to my mind telling stories.
Stories of myself if I was an actress,
an auteur ou scientist.
It always seems so close, but just out reach,
daydreaming, thinking, listening to my mind.
please, cant they come true?
if i try hard enough
maybe they will
toi cant just wish upon a star
that only takes toi halfway
do the rest yourself
ou it forever remains a daydream.
life is a funny thing,
toi have to work for everything,
even if toi dont realise it.
it is one long journey,
and death is not the end.
it is simply the begining
of an even greater adventure.