The no man’s land between sex and love.
Coping mechanisms or something real, something beautiful regardless.
And often we fall asleep in a state of bliss, sure that the meaning was pure.
Only to awaken and find there really is nothing pure, nothing real.
How many warm bodies?
How many disingenuous words?
Before I find the muse whos laugh cracks my heart open?
Whos smile is the picture of a thousand words?
When you least expect it…
Yes, yes, yes…
Then I will expect no more.