The ink in this pen lets the thoughts I have flow so freely,
yet this ink is no match for the words that I desire to say in the sweet mist of the morning, waking to the melody of the purest song which streams from your chest,

The harmony of this song touches me gently, massaging the wrinkles from this paper, the feeling of a new path to explore in this journey grasps my breathe and slightly suffocates me from the anticipation of a best seller,
only with time will our novel become a classic, and the discussion of our life together becomes a part of history,

With every turn of a page the memories we share will transform into models of that others wish to partake in,

The conversations about the mature details of this novel, will leave influences in the minds of readers,
influences that others have ran across but never had the courage to do until the unraveling of our escapades ,
the images of characters they want so much to be them being intertwined with one another, unafraid to be submissive and catering to the sinful pleasures that feels so right to the warmth of their bodies, in the shadows of night,

Being a part of a masterpiece has been a distant star that I have wished upon, but is now forever shooting in our atmosphere of beatitude,

Finding the perfect words to end this novel causes a blank for the novel has become part of a collection with a continuing story, one that will last and keep readers wanting more of a intoxicating odyssey.