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Misinterpreted and misplaced ideas of passion faced eyes wide and thighs braced bodies frozen lost in space satin arranged with no brains wet drops but no rain loud screams but no pain perfect picture no frame heartfelt claims nobody sane just unimagined days and a mid morning gaze with hopes of long sundays blending into mondays and lost eyes twirling like a thumb game all leading to lonely nights and internal mind fights with no hope for peace until that one divine night when souls connect and climax is more than sex cum comes from the heart no more questions who's next just plans of long lives sons daughters and ex-wives all on the line pressed soley on minds with no thoughts of rewind just ecstasy with no lines pump hours with no time this is a dedication to those who fear isolation and those involved in painful relations in hopes of inspiring mental masturbation but more than anything emotional maturation which leads to utopia and the birth of a new nation.