Monday, 9 May 2011

Naïve

Hands out; a pointless blockade,
Blood stains run out of my veins.
They creep outwards, upwards,
Onwards- with each encounter.

Hands tied behind my back;
A pathetic restraint, I may not
Be pure of heart but dammit
I'm still only innocent you fool.

Hands in yours; couldn't be more
Criminal, more wrong or sinful.
Couldn't be any less true or
Representative of  feelings for you.

Hands over my mouth; truths
Trapped, perceptions relapsed.
Appearances arn't what they're
Supposed to be- believe me.

Hands over your eyes; don't
Look, don't see. Theres so much
You really don't need to know,
Love. I couldn't love you more.

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