This book is a WORK OF LOVE. The type of love you can only dream you can imagine. And if you can imagine it, it can be made. You create your own reality. Damn, I wish everybody understood that. Because then, everybody would be loving it as much as I. I love it so much, I can’t let it end. Nay, let not the satiety of the yoke be broken, the bosom slacken. Why, there's room for all of us, if only one should move over a little into the vacant space at one's side. Fear of lack sets the limits of this cosmic womb. But love trumps fear. Love will overcome. Love will reign supreme. From the bosom.
Keywords:
poetry
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