Egg

I pass you an egg while being lost in your beauty.
Not sure I have any idea what it all will entail in the end.
Stares and glances from across this steamed filled room.
Bent over and blended, forever in love with the glow.
Softly making love in blankets quilted together in haste.
Bushes poking the edges of my feet, aware of the open skies.

I am the Pagan Christ giving birth to frivolous unending wants.
With my pen writing off anti-copyrights.
Pirated away my ink and stink, with out saying my last goodbyes.
Curious of all those zeros, folding back onto themselves for the storms.
The aeon of bagging for the right thing to say.
Spraying the crops with fox hole crops, the bottom is less intriguing.

Leave it all alone, undone song curses crowd control butt fucks.
Period always at the end of your thoughts, unless otherwise unstated.
The meaning is imprinted in the little scribbling that no one notices.
I drink my beer alone in glasses made by heat from the moon.
Landing in time to circle around the sores left from last month.
Just recall the memory of it all, but change for the better.

Dru .