Pure Love Pours Stain Free!

Pure love like unto the wind, get wind of you! I know I can't make you spell-bound. Your oh so perfect, as perfect can be! Your the new born baby! Your the peace that passes understanding!

You pour to over-flow, and the spills thrill me even more. I can't cry over you as spilt milk! I'm going for it! I'm going for you! I'm bringing it home, for us both! I need more than this, beyond spilt milk!

This is solid love, I can afford, but don't always want to. I'm stone in love with you, it was sung. In myself I can only be like a shell that needs you love to break me right, inside out, with special care.

I need your many wombs to come out of my wounds, again and again! This world can crack my shell, and mean well. I need more than spell-spill-thrills! Right just right! The hold it, that I can drop, and make something more of, as pure love spills!

Going all the way, must go further still. I need to say it, beyond myself. Reverse may be better than flat-out forward. The cook also is better on both sides. The shell serves as the bowl. The tongue, needs the bite. The choke looses life with the chew! The me, needs you!

Pure love I'll sleep with you, beyond disease! Plain and simple, you lay inside me. You awake me in a world of ways! Your out to get me in! Your like a alien, in the world and not of it. You can't be placed in your fullness as a solid, on our mantel, to hoard you.

You know life unseen that's right there all over us. You protect our sight from fright. Your love in it's vast wisdom, would stop our hearts early. Your beyond all of the everything we've done, or you already know we'll do. Yet still enjoyment can be in our labors, and our work not in vain.

The ball is hit, and we are to! The hurt leads the way to show the care! The home-run is a bore every time. Perfect isn't the home-run in love every time! Love doesn't walk the fine lines we make. Love wants mistakes known, and other times ignored.

Generated to please, is for us. Love needs no generations, to be generous. Love pours with life, and beyond the heart. Where there is no heart, their can still be love!

You allow us to be human yet sill, to do our do! We may pay some dues, and merely end-up spell-bound. The flesh isn't enough for me! All the way, must go beyond my flesh, where the everywhere is that's right for me, to help that special someone.

What is it with you? What is it with me? What is it with everything and everyone? It's not so much what it is, but what it's not! Knots and knots worth of the nots. The same old way, comes into place. I see it to well, and it bores me, more than an idol at times.

Love made not of gold, in a mold. Love that comes freely, as the ocean forms natural art. The heart skips, and the hand jerks, and the painting turns out better! Old made new it's said. New isn't the best it can be, without old. Items even need each other, the one broken becomes the one better made, with the other.

Pour love to bank the broken! Pour love with more than all you have! Pour love rich really well off in fullness of life! Make love with love, fervently. Test the water if you must, but don't leave love on the back of the bus, least pass it by.

It's just right, it's said. Just what right is just right even alone. Could it be pure love? I love just right usually, but love is just perfect, beyond undescribably delicious! Cause even though we pour it wrong, and stain ourselves, love say's, "Go and make mistakes no more, you are without blemish" !