I got to this poem after bumping into your profile. I wish You weren’t an untouchable. I hate that I pressed follow because i found a web legacy with the cedar wings. I just wished I pressed the follow button after reading some your pieces because this version has a furnace inside of her. I know that your intellect is on fire but I fear for your heart for passion to me is a seductive link to abomination and darkening in the parts of the soul still intact. Excuse me for babbling. I just caution others for I had a volcano erupt beyond my flesh.

PS Concerning the poem, I feel out of touch with the social construct. I had a clash for asking my cousin who was going to faint from abdominal pain about OBYN symptoms. Also as a doctor when you ask a girl about her menstruation or sexual history, gates of hell open. Issues I find so trivial I don’t think of make me enchanted by the world. By the way people are the same everywhere, only what turns the siren in their paper thin frontal cortex, are different things. The secret lies in reading, writing, and music. No worries for grammar or logic.

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