long live the king

Beauty is what resides outside of what we know and comprehend.
Comfort is dwelling in what we do.

I walk the streets inspecting cracks, expecting just that. Imprints of feet, shoes, neon nails slide through the view and out behind. I look up and my mind focuses only on legs, butts, and breasts. I sigh a breath. I know it's ingrained and aggravating. I see fashion and pride, beautiful bodies, beautiful eyes. A million stretch out and past. Walking Venuses, so lovely to look at, to beautiful to possess, to caress. Who would want to caress emptiness?
It's tough being out of touch, out of time, out of control, out of your mind. It's awkward starting things up, when it feels like nothing is ever finished. It's hard to judge a shirt as a soul, a haircut to a person as a whole.
Your shoes make you tall, but quicker to fall. Though we all take chances, the problems just evolve. It's hard to win when the house has all the cards. It's hard to lose, when you best loss is your sacred win. Fall out until the end, riding the wind. Til we part and say goodbye dear day.

1 comment:

  1. You are welcome my dear Matty :)
    Great post as always, reminds me of something I wrote awhile back that I think I will post soon