Melissa K.

Never talk money to me on Sunday night or Monday morning. Help me if I ask, spare me the drama and hypochondria, just lend a hand. Enjoy my demented wit, watch out for the sideswipes and beckon with your eyes. That look will get you just about anything I have to give...and half the time you won't even have to ask. Social conciousness is imperative. Love should be painfully succulent and satisfyingly soulful. Romping and giggling are good things. Smoking is a hazard, but not the entire match. Crack/Coke/Smack automatically forfeit. Lyric poetry. Poetic lyric. Euterpe. Insinuating guitar leads and slithering sax solos can tantalize, but not satisfy like strong rythyms and full bottoms ;-0. The words matter. Be about it. Don't take the scissors out of my hand, better to pick up the pieces. Vote. Look up. Remember always, its about me not you. Never take me too seriously. The moon. If my garden of desires ever yielded the garden I desire, I would never leave it/him/her.Harmony is a state of being that allows one to flex their will, their ability to flow, and the trueness of connection with others...where you fit into the void that joins the next heart. If you are truly present, you will feel the ebb and flow of ONE.If I lost you, then you're not down to here and it won't matter that I find you isolating and rigid.