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Untitled (Feeling Love)
Waiting for the words
They never seem to come out
They never flow

Like the shower running down
Between thin warm skin
Like suds rolling over
And under thighs I lay beside

From underneath
Heated ceilings
Captured candle light
And spring breezes

Feeling that warmth
A hug around the neck
Is it real? Or fake? fake?
A pretender at cause

Its just for a while
Just for a bit
A secret I hid
Share, kept away

I feel myself
Loosing grip
As the river swarms
Around my feet
And ankles and knees

The under current pulls me
Drowning I go
She watches on
Until I get back
On my feet
And protrude a pencil-perfect portrait
A penicl perferct-portrait




 1998 David Greg Harth
98.04.02.22:04:00@NYC