Drunk Drum

i might Save you   if you allow as i am the Poet  and shall not leave but will write____in all intensity i may sprout wings to swoop your Soul but forget the body | why in these wild nights do i love you?   In Eden and Atlantis the Wind does not require air ~ but she weeps still stolen gardens with bright bee hums ~~ wherefore i shut the sound while it dragged like a drunk drum and my reasons never contained --but of Talk-- myself of some strange race or being i dropped down and down then as a King witnessed, upon your lips , quivering as a living thing our lips met.    The world turned upon a time her eyes fluttering as butterflies to entertain champagne. :: 02.14.2023 ::