passion jumps

into your arms

and

grabs you by the shoulders.

Your eyes are caffeine making me

want more even though I've always

hated brown.

Your eyes are a

seaside dock in front

of a picturesque dawn,

and a tower of bricks higher

than God's spirit.

Your lips are a love

creeping

up those bricks

through the cracks

(Ivy walls)

Hugging my veins.

Your hands are tools

that have seen the magic of the floating

planets

and so

much more.

Those hands see the veins

in a wrist begging for attention

because they know how

important they are;

flowing with the black and white blood

of a poet's love.

All ink-filled branches

leading to a beating

blank canvas

full of the beautiful creations whining

like a dog to be free.

Because you are passion

and your entire being is

poetic.

Invade a tower and build upon its

glory.

Let all those words--
everything--

breathe out of your being

and write

PASSION