oc morning

would you run to my arms
eyes filled with tears
the red aropund your pupils
the spirit of crimson where crimson does not belong
would flesh meld together if there were no feelings
guitar riffs
grind time into nothing
the wrinkles of ones face
divide age into facets of existance
not just division of
sanity
and lust
laces up those
shoes
one tie
after a other
smile
an lap it up