Farther down the road I go

I could be remembered by my eyes or my arms or my chest that women cling to whenever we have come to that part of the night, when men and women love each other in the purity of their bodies.  Moving their bodies like they only can that drives us wild.  I could be remembered by the words used in my poetry and how it is eloquent and arrogant or passionate and filled with love.  I could be remembered for the things I have done in my time, in which ones could see me as a blunt asshole or just blunt.  I could be remembered as abrasive or passionate.  I do not know from which my memory will be displayed in the mind of those who choose to think back on me.  Right now I am alive and those who remember me can do so however they wish, but I couldn’t care less on the things rattling around in the droll sea of thoughts floating from side to side.  I am just trying to figure how I am going to live and die.  Love and cry from the love of that moment and how the music comes as it may.  I will create memories that I will be remembered however I am and right now I am making them.  Regardless how the world and people may see me, I am just going and going all day and all night until love may come when it will and so will the heartache.  Farther down the road I go.