A stock cube of words,
Dropped onto paper,
To the page,
To feed your soul.
And then I stumble
Scattering the words
I held so carefully for you
At your feet
Nothing can replace the feeling,
I get when I see the moon for myself.
So low and close I wanted to reach out and touch her face.
Even dawn couldn’t compete this morning.
She was the florescent shellsuit,
To the moon’s Dior LBD.
And that’s how I feel about you.
You are my moon.
I’ve traced your lines a thousand times
Until you feel permanently
Under my skin
When a poet falls in love with you,
You will know what it is to be loved.
Like the once tight closed tulip
I open up to show you my heart
As I weave it into your world
Are just for you
Carried in the wind’s sighs
Look for what they don’t highlight.
The parts they leave out.
Sometimes that picture makes more sense.
I wake not from dreams
But from sleep filled with poetry
She was a wild one.
With flowers in her hair,
A constant movement of life.
And a smile,
A smile you wanted to keep on her lips.
Am I a fool,
For giving you my heart?
I didn’t mean to give it to you.
I know you have no desire or need for it.
I know how it will end.
And yet you have it.