Janine

Am not your little drip, nor big sea, the yellow light tripped, you ask about my lovers, with all their surly needs, no one has my number, what I crave to live, as dearly as a creed, is know my own limits, that edge of wonder, being witness to believe, always worth the struggle, stones flowers pieces of drift, its enough to keep, what's within my gift, to enslave or encumber, a lifetime of greed, doesn't bear such trouble, love's never easy.