dear friend,
i'm happy to have met you in this life.
i can't remember my past lives but i believe that i've met you in those too.
i still remember the beginning of our friendship,
it's nice and i like it.
you've lit up my life.
i could swear on everything i have that the universe brought us together,
that the universe showed me you to prove that someone could be the most beautiful living thing ever.
more than any flower,
moment,
memory,
sunset,
sunrise,
person,
living organism,
everything.
you're all of these things in one human and i still feel paralyzed with love and warmth talking to you.
there's moments that i feel undeserving of your presence.
every bad thing seems to be nonexistent when i talk to you.
the love i have for you seems different from other kinds of love.
i can't explain it other than "our love".
it's unique and one of a kind,
nothing like it will ever exist i think.
i tried to write you a poem before,
for the first time and i think it was about macaroni shaped like a smiley face.
there's no words to describe you or this.
meeting you will be the best day ever.
i think the earth might explode from happiness radiating from us.
when i think of us meeting all i can imagine are supernovas.
supernovas outshine galaxies and radiate more energy than the sun will in its entire life.
i think that describes our friendship.

I wish I could be a super-hero.
I wish I could be your super-hero.
But most of all I would want to be your Bee-Man.

Flying over continents and oceans,
over forests and gardens,
until I found you,
my Rose Queen,
my super-powers would detect
your pink petals
from far off.
Down I would fly,
drawn by the fragrance of you
to the exquisite beauty
of your blushing petals
silkily emerging from the heart of you,
unfolding for me,
welcoming me to your secret treasure.

Gently but firmly
my long, loving tongue would press
between those dew-moistened folds,
unable to resist the perfume
overcoming me.
Tugged in
by your intoxicating scent,
your nectar I would sup
until I could drink no more.

Then transforming
the sweet nectar
you had so willingly granted me,
I would create my rich, creamy honey,
especially for you,
so willingly penetrate
between your soft petals,
find your hidden depths,
and to repay you for the delight
your fragrant nectar had given me,
magically inject my honey,
into the essential heart of you,
until my store was empty,
and we could both feel
the most exquisite joy of all.

I hope that you dream of it as I do,
that you wish it also,
and that some day our dreams can come together.
And if you and I could come
together
in ecstasy,
it would be the most perfect fulfilment possible
of my desire.

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

Shards of self
Lay scattered in the blood
Of our past
Seasons come and seasons go
Tongue upon steel
Tempered at the alter of the anvil
Into full bloom
Neither satisfied nor solemn
We must make a choice
Grace for the future
From the Masters voice