Neverending moments (thank you)

Neverending moments; fleeting but not lacking. Whose noose coiled tight? Not mine! Which hand held tight. Yours! Thank you for the welts upon my skin, and for the marks left within my kin. Long branches crawl to sparkling stars while comets rain down through snatching fingertips. Bright lights, city signs, and bricked streets soon return to me. I look to my everyday, this holy manor I get to be. Whether short and sweet, or long and tender, it's of no matter. I am grateful for the sweet sin of pleasure and pain that I let drip down my chin. I'm awake, I'm alive, and I laze in winding rivers of the ecstatic centre. Thank you for sharing; I feel alive.