My Perspective on Temporary Pleasure: Internal Beauty ALWAYS trumps the physical.
What good is a sip of heaven,
If one can never taste its eternal
Of those men who admire the bark,
Only handfuls flirt with her virtuous
But ever since the sound of destiny
I’ve been her subconscious audience,
And remain curious of how musical this
rapture truly is.
Maybe it was the eloquent cure she gave
for my cause,
A contagious laugh for the healthy sinner;
Perhaps the substitute of starry nights who
borrow her glow,
Or could it be the angel eyes that tear away
doubt in blind hearts?
Her complex salt that hungers for life’s non-progressive
Indeed, every star aligned in the presence of
Despite these moments of substance,
On occasion, I still visit her skin
And although impressed by her elaborate
It was never substituted as my distraction;
I continued to peel away at her trivial
And with nature as a truthful witness,
The full moon imitated our merging
Sculpting God’s gift of completion.
I discovered how persistent gravity could
As it crept over my shoulder,
And melted away empty veins;
Familiar as the blood that sprints from my
Its where every internal character defeats the