Soft whispers of the butterflies slide across her mind; flying the distance of passion and romance, destined to become her rhyme...

She was fragile in his fingers. Around his kiss, her shuddered bliss lingered. Touching skies in forgotten throes. Glowing perspectives of never let go prose...

But open mouths and closed hearts never mix. They’re paths decay, after a lifetime tryst. Her tongue screams dry, his stone front withers in his eyes...

Where do strangers sleep, while nightmares trace their dreams...?

Lies end and begin, with this thin line of danger. “I sometimes forget how easy it was to say hello to strangers.”…

-HMG