Cassady

Look into the peephole and tell me what you see? A seed has been planted and it’s waiting patiently. Blossom… come to fruition. A simple taste satisfies the temptation. The door is locked, Pacing back and forth, Waiting for your next fix. Look into the peephole and tell me what you see? Passionfruit, Fine wine…

Handicap

I’ve noticed these percieved novelties, Infatuated by ancient vanity. Descendant of Eve. A Rarity of sorts. Coerced in the midst of love. Where is my heart? Locked in a chest on rainy days, Noah’s Arc. The sun has risen, your eyes, lips and body-language tell a story. Pillow talk, Words said while laying in parallel…

PURE

People paint a peculiar picture of vanity. Unrelenting ideas of what’s the perfect pretentions. Reflecting on what will be socially accepted. Experiencing self doubt on their own image. P.U.R.E Wake up to a splash of water to your face, Look in the mirror and smile at what reflects back. Never turn and look away in…