The fountain
sings to me
lyrics from the ancients---
music to my ears---
messages tinge my heart
and I submit
submerged in the air
filled with mystery
and circumstance.
Beauty---
beyond belief---
old as time itself
speaks to the
tapping on the pole
descends in rhythm---
music to the soul.
This book has been eight years in the making. It is mostly a jumble of thoughts written down in old spiral notebooks and hidden in the bottom drawer underneath various manuals for software packages and hardware long since turned obsolete.
Sexuality is very misunderstood.What if the tornado dropped Dorothy not into Oz, but onto the shooting set of an X-rated film?
Eric Edwards makes sex films. Period... Sex-on-command. Sex-for-hire.... So begins the story of Eric Edwards, Mr.
This book has been eight years in the making. It is mostly a jumble of thoughts written down in old spiral notebooks and hidden in the bottom drawer underneath various manuals for software packages and hardware long since turned obsolete.
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