Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Purpose of Life

Soft pillows and scented sheets

of a love that only two know,

laughter that is incessant

and continues to grow.

Quiet whispers that with breath

pet another's skin,

sweat and erotica that the

most pure wouldnt call sin.

Mirrors only reflect that

of a true lover's eyes,

and joy is the only thing

responsible for one's cries.

Hands held while walking

through the winter's snowfall,

landing into love is the only

place one would ever fall--


and these things, to me, are the purpose of life. 

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