I didn’t say you were wrong, punk! The proper name is “Paint Horse”. I agreed! But there are some who call it painted horse too. So perhaps that’s a lesser name or something. I just go by what I research, I don’t judge.LOL.
You’re saying I’m wrong just to build the drama on a slow night.
Dont make me bring the BaBoom! on ya!
Anyway, lover, your write…
Wonderfully dreamlike, even if in day. That “zone” that we settle in, for creative moments. It’s addictive to want to stay there half a day!
You described it well. And my dear, we are immortal for as long as we are around! What a blessing!

I remember a certain dream you were telling me about today! Pillows were thrown! Hahaha
Yes, dreams can affect the awake state! I had to post!
And I am an avid dreamer honey. You know this too 🙂
Thank you for the snaps on my write!

But honey you love my drama! Haha
You are a great sparring partner. It’s kind of addicting.
Your wit and words, I love it and you:)
Fixing to call ya in a bit. My iPad is fixing to die!

yeah, that dream. And also our last baboom. LOL. Sigh!
Smooches!

This is a good piece. If I can go to bed as well and just fall into a dreamlife. That would be great.

Beautifully penned, Adel. Excellent write as usual my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

We’re aware of painted horse and through family of riders riding them not just to battle, but to the here after and into the dream realm. Your guardian into and our of the dreamweaver or afterlife. Great pieces lady with lots of imagery, we could see this, tight

This is a fiesta of dreamlife that ascends into cloud realms of loving bliss. I just felt the total joy here that comes as you rest your head to sleep and dream. This is how the best dreams come and you expressed this with great virtuosity. Truly a fabulous poem.

John

It must have been something to behold. Nice piece, Thomas.

Brilliantly penned, Thomas. Excellent storytelling my friend, I really dig the layers in your work my friend. Appreciate you.

Damian

Stirring stuff, Thomas! I felt I was there with you, with her, with her ass – knowing how tremendously realistic your delicious poetic fantasies tend to become mid-verse… it’s probably just as well that I wasn’t! Harriet-Jacqui xx

So great Thomas. Nice work!

The flesh offers as many charms as does the bottle, Thomas, and pulls us through desperate times like nothing else: a respite and a jail, both with sweet, slick memories that can sustain as well as strangle life. Well written and remembered.

Thanks, my friemd.

I live how you brilliantly rounded this out – starting with the ass, and finishing with the ass. The darker, harsher, more gritty memories walking between the reminiscence of that ass. It teases with questions but in the kind of way that stirs the mind rather than leaving dissatisfied. Always that ass…

lol Thanks