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Shakespeare's Monkeys
Infinite Monkeys. Infinite Typewriters.
More in Sometimes...it just is
lover. bring me here between your thumb and finger where sighs become my testament scouring the stars for consolation because light has longer kisses and i cast no shadows.
Pretty, very pretty.
I'll take pretty!
That is one fine poem, Amanda. Sensual, soft, and just lovely.
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There are no monkeys here. If you're looking for monkeys, go away. Well, actually there are monkeys, but they're of the hairless variety that writes poetry and such. If that's not what you're looking for move along.