Angels are hypocrites.
BTW I ALWAYS capitalise words that I find of major importance (sometimes). 🙂
Well, I’m a writer. Yet the production of a physical book in my hand says nothing about what paper and I have always meant to one and other, although with us there was never an ‘other’.
These collections of words are only for you, really; a public announcement celebrating our perpetual love. Then we go back to bed but in public now with aspirations that you will observe the ways that we embrace each other and not confuse it with screwing.
An obscure thing lays within these word soaked sheets, as these golden drops of our soul repose, naked on a bed of love, publicly etching my name upon her spine. But maybe you missed it, maybe to you it’s just more fast food on your superhighway, while you dash out with haste that won’t be slowed for even a minute to feel a brother’s communication.
Even as I talk without my head this heart speaks a dialect that explicit ears can’t know for living in poor tomorrow because of poor yesterday and poor judgments and the screaming surroundings that clog their souls, missing the signs between the lines.
Hearts remain in thirst though some say they wish to quench it with the purest water. Maybe they’re tired of fluoride from the faucet.
And of the many keys lost on the personal highway still, they’re seen rushing, head down, even while retracing their footsteps searching for that symbol again. The one that only just resembles a key when they’re running past the door and miss the whole point.
These are the same hurried actions that locked us out in the first place robbing us x3 of the time we were trying to save.
But, if slow motion is the only way for one to be in the moment, this moment, then I pray that on the second, third or forth reflection you will finally recognise each repeated frame as atoms, making love; where heads are disengaged and bodies lose names and definitions and titles don’t even exist. I hope you enjoy that moment of the illusion called separation as a crazy thought and then realise that you never really lost your keys, you only dropped them, in your haste to get to the end to tell your story of ‘The Story’.
So here we are together, timeless, embedded between the sheets.
Before you part the pages, I ask you to
‘Slow down and read naked’.
Forward by Tommed
About Angel Lewis
Freelance journalism, entrepreneurialism, artistry and aliens are some of the things that are given the Angel energy. Angel also identifies with the Polymath as is most evident. A lover of people and services towards people done through passion. To create is to be a nurturer of life. An empath in a self-sacrificial sense.
Angel Lewis’s only hate is blood and believes it belongs inside of the body. Be things as they may and putting all of these features loves, skills & traits into perspective there is value in knowing the collective reason for this expression.
SO! why all of this pen action?
Champion MY mission: To ‘KEEP BLOOD INSIDE THE BODIES OF ALL WO/MAN’.
Oh! Enough Already!!!
I have verbal turrets, ‘I can’t lie’.
Any story made in the head is not a story.