Breathing bodies won't hear me cry
and so I started singing to the sky;
About you. Your smile and kindness,
how are people blind from this?
The smoothness of your stalk,
the richness of your tone when you talk.
The delicate way of holding your
stick of nicotine between your fingers.
How you seem to fool everyone
that you're pernicious but there's not a bad bone
in your body, my sweet.
I don't see it when we meet.
Cause when you speak I see stars glimmering
and warm waves crashing.
The softness of the breeze
during a 5.45pm sunset, swaying trees
whispering good omens for hidden,
lost souls. You breathe in
life and exhale an aura of wisdom,
masked by lackadaisical freedom
of expression. They don't read between
the lines to unfurl your hidden dreams.
I could go on and on about you
but they don't see the real and raw side of you.

-m.b