Cheeks flush,
red lips purse.
Eyebrows, thick and singular,
draw upwards in shock,
scandalized by my very existence.

Born in love,
and yet out
of all else.

Lacy blue bra
strewn across the floor
of an empty apartment.
All is still -
only dust particles
float through the air,
undisturbed by human troubles.

Shades hang open,
streams of sunlight filter in.
The rainy dew
of yesterday's downfall
lingers still.

The scent of waffles
wafts up the stairs.
Visions of
blueberries and strawberries and whipped cream
fill the eyes, nose, and mouth -
salivating for more.

Eyes snap open.
A day begins once more.

Poems are so fine.
I do them all the time,
sell 'em for a dime.
Such pretty, pretty rhymes.

Your sweet compliments
bring a flutter to my knees.
It's not out of politesse
that I smile and say, "Oh geez."

In your presence, I feel at ease,
though my mouth feels like cottage cheese.

Saying such things out loud is hard.
For me, this has always been my guard.

My favorite people
were met on a whim.
My favorite memories
were made on a whim.

The most splendid castles,
the most magnificent sunsets,
the sweetest kisses;
all were had and done and seen
on whims.

Don't tell me that I'm silly
for following my heart
and permitting my life
to blow along with the wind.

My life was made on a whim,
and it'll likely end the same way.

More wisdom than the psalms,
voice soothing like swaying palms
or the sweet melodies of Brahms.

Reminds me to wear long johns,
and that what is gold
once was bronze.
Taught me to be strong,
and to accept being wrong.

Has so much class,
but she's still such a bad-***
(even when I give her sass).
She's surely first class.
All the others she does surpass.

Through riot and loss,
she wore the cavalry's cross.
She'll show you who's boss,
all while reminding you to floss.