A THORN BY

LOVE Love is the distinct fragrance of her beneath the perfume she wears the space between you and the ground not just the petals of the rose but the thorns that wonderful bite draws your boiling hot blood the hug nature returns when you are together a tight focused view her lips on a succulent fruit the liquid smile that follows it is being enrobed in each others warmth the laughter harmonized in the music of your real Love is everything and nothing it engages you in the wealth of doing nothing together and that is everything Armand Hamouth