My biggest obstacle is my mind.
Fools fall in love because fools are destined to weep all their lives.
In between rays of moonshine, the inner side of her left finger makes a slow, round-trip voyage across my cheek. A lower sec- tion of her head where my finger clutches and moves the softest hair shakes the savage, qui est doux, who hides in my bones all the time. She starts to speak, Sweet, sweet sugar of my life across the sea, he can read so honestly the veins in my finger but is powerless to time his lover's moments of erotic, savage sweeps. I often bring her savage flower buds on my returning five miles of endless, powdery cocoa road where long vats of intimate time is all my mind can see. I push and pull my bulky legs sec- onds into hours.