"Let me introduce myself, my goods, and my services:"
No matter how much time I spend with you, it never seems to be enough.
In your company eternally, and it would be only a whisper cuff.
"Breathe the essence of my body and
soul now in convenient travel size:"
The web-locked hands and entwined limbs tell the tale that few can hear.
For when I wake without you there I feel so incomplete.
The presence of your beating heart drives me with a rhythm strong.
But without the rhythm it's just not really quite right now is it?
For withered hands stumble through the tempered tests of time.
Barely making it out the cave into the light of day.
The tests are now behind us so the soulful bells will chime.
I'm sorry that these beating lines pound a drone cliche.
"'In conclusion I have found...' is
never the way to end an essay:"
My only hope is that these words may draw your cheeks a grin.
Cuz with that hell beneath the waves the seminar shall begin.
The hands that kept the rhythm strong grew weak from such a test.
Test has reached its final breath and hands now soak in clean caress.
Test Versus Hands