The Director Flowing Free Poem by James McLain

Flowing cold from finger tips, so mind does
quell, I'm bringing eyes so green,
from deep in you.
Laughing lights glitter flash, from sky so bright,
blinded still of truth,
I may be few.
Outside inside cheese from cloth like wine, try
most sweet upon the tounge can't
help but bring a dropp
of blood from you.
Windows clean see my soul, the sill is clear
hear my feet, they seek a place to
hide inside of you.