Limbo. Baby. Limbo.

I live beneath the sea,
The creatures crawl far above me.

I might as well be here,
Sitting pretty, music on, waiting.

Can he be real?
I really don't know.

Only time will tell,
We've yet to meet.

That's why it seems absurd,
Crazy, mixed, impulsive emotions.

He's a genius, a fixer of things,
can he fix me? make me..?

What effect will I have on him?
I want to create love, passion and the rest.

We'll see. Chaos or Nirvana.
Lets see. We'll see.

This painting on the wall

This painting is one of many upon the wall,
Some hirsute, some pretty, some yet to hear their call.

Post Everything

After everything is the wish of what you meant,
to happen.
The delicacy, the rapture all remixed in the mind.
If you feel the love, it will come,
unabated to you.
Slippery.
Thats how I see it.

I know these malarky aint what
its supposed to be.
But sometimes malarky and its
disco like flashing.
Is the key to salvation,
Sure what is love but that?

Is not love mainly the reassurance
of the theatrics?
The be all and all and all
and bollox,

I've loved many a man,
By sight of nipples and chest wig,
alone.
Dirty bitch me.