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Deborah Richards

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Member Since: Nov, 2003

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hand print's
by Deborah Richards

Saturday, December 27, 2003

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what is it that take us to the next level, what warmth creeps into our night's, what hand is it that traps our dream's,

i can not sleep without thinking of it, about a breath, that sends chill's down my spin, a touch that explore's me, a graze of a body next to mine, i wake to find that, i'm sweating, hungry, thrusty for another moment like the last,

it embodies my every thought, i'm drained, all energy is gone, and all that is left, is the want, the need, the entrapment of another like the last, and in this i struggle to fall asleep with, to lay next to, burning desire, to entrust myself, to want, to bring it back into wonder,

i can not sleep, hunger is to much, the very thought, tosses me, it entwines me to fight the very need, of what i want, frustration is my bed, pain is my need, and hurt is myself, as i lay awake, trapped in thought, my mind is steering me on a path of lust,

hand print's are my dream's, and the hand is indulging me to cover myself in thought's of illusion, for i can not sleep, the distingusion mark of yesterday, today and tommorrow is my wonder,

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