I see the cluster
of stars that are lit
in the heart of your eyes
I watch the crease
of your lips curl
into a wicked smile
and I know then
that in that moment
we are drawn
to each other
like magnets
neither one of us able
to pull away
a fatal attraction
born in the torrid
flame of desire

Your greatest audience
are those who love you most
so without that love
you find your words fall
empty no matter how full
you feel they are.

The way the piano called into the night,
it wept and danced and moved like
the birch trees brushed by the wind.
The silver of the tree's caught the moon
which smiled,
an unexpected cluster of teeth proved
to the world that there really is a man
in the moon.

She wore her beauty like a silk blouse, it flowed effortlessly as she took life one stride at a time.

She was a poet
they're all poets these days
spoilt and beautiful
drowned in old books
that they have only ever
scratched the surface of
head buried in the handheld
technology that shrinks
the brain cells
yet she was beautiful
unfortunately she was
a poet

Hazel eyes and long curls of chocolate hair,
these were just what caught me first.
Clean skin, unspoiled, never marred
by the crooked calloused hands of man.
She was and always will be the paragon
of beauty, and to only smell her was
more intimacy than I probably deserved,
but it carried me through my days,
searching for that perfection.
It was an intoxication that poisoned me
day in and day out, but it was the kind
I begged for.
flagellation of the soul.