| The Price The mourning of a velvet tongue resonds bouncing within the hollows of my heart so tired of forgetting full of remembering when the sun lit your eyes salt water crashed upon the shore, babies suckled and puppies played tug of war with the fragments of fear stained panties left in the sand Why was a question never answered by God or Satan or the evangelical predator he enticed the primitive longing for triumph, the womb, two arms hugging, warm bodies meeting in the middle of chaos to find serenity and the man he won the prize by default, using trickery shrouded by the smell of potential so sweet. |