Sex is art, is love, is life and no one is any the wiser.
We revel in pain and we worship the same. Doing just what the "crazy ones" do.
Sex is art, is love, is life and no one is any the wiser.
Our art, true art is a laughable tribute under scrutiny by the widowers eye.
Art is sex, is love, is life. The beholders divinition, our gift. Art is embroided in our hearts, in our flesh.. the only truth to spill from our lips.
Where sex must be lacking in stretch. Slack hoisted along to connect.
Pieces scattered as far as the minds of the youth who have nothing and no one more perfect to abuse.
Art is sex, art is love, art is life. Which is living. For sex is a moment and art is unending.
© Copyright 2021 Krea Liz. All rights reserved.
Thank you
A sermon you preach, to which congregation reach? Sex, the art of sex, a widdower , a speech... To deafened ears, the message screeched... From way beyond, still lifeblood leeched!
This is incredibly deep, Krea. I focus on the line about 'youth' who have 'nothing and no one more perfect to abuse' as a reference to your title about 'lost generation'....the perception of sex as art...and certainly it can be, but doesn't have to be. I like the last line..."sex is a moment and art in unending"
Jason Woods