Not your hips swaying
to the rhythm of love
or your full lips pressed
gently to an apple
Not even your breasts
nestled into cleavage
But rather extensions
as in roots and branches
and tall family trees
with fruits overhanging abundantly
But also ceilings and walls
and floors and fences
Or rather my future
set in stone.
We only live once. Hence, let's not stop dreaming
Poetry, stories and some random words...
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Philosophy Poetry Madness -- Dust
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Benjamin Grossman 
Ben, those last lines… Gorgeous 👌💜 The whole piece is well written, but you killed with the ending.
Oh, thanks 🙂 Glad you thought so!
LOVE this.
Thanks for that!
You’re welcome 😊
Amazingly brilliant Benjamin! There is no line lack of fullness.
Thanks. That’s the sweetest comment!
I read it three times straight which is unusually for me. I enjoyed it each time.
🙂 Thanks again!
Beautifully done. 🙂
Thank you 🙂
W 😍 W !! well articulated
THANK YOU!
Oh now this is quite lovely.
Thanks, Tara!
Beautiful. Well penned!!
Thanks!