souls collide in and out of each other
fuelled by a constant locomotion
we breath in and out of each other
propelling each other higher
temporary companions, temporary eyewitnesses
going in and out of each other
quick glimpses and it's back aboard the tour bus
having yet not possessing
wanting,craving, lusting tis as good as dangling a sweet over a limbless body
the mind eventually triumphs over the soul
a premature victory
as the locomotive propels itself in and out of motion
mind can only relish in memory
fiction filled mourners tell tales of the
robotic locomotive that comes to tear
heart from heart,limb from limb
and lips from lips
emotionless locomotion motions for the
the bird to cut ties with the bee
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