It is but new words
for resonant songs:
in languages tuned
from old notes.
Imaginations are
rearranged to yield
greater and deeper
human insights,
framed in a
variety of forms.
Truth to  Sincerity
is all.

Nothing in literature
can be compared
to poetry, other
than Beauty.
For, in a word,
Poetry is Perfection.

Tobias.

When I was sixteen I fell in love with a girl
Who looked like autumn
Long wavy hair the colour of maple leaves
Freckles on her cheeks scattered like raindrops on grass
She felt like home in ways I could never understand

Rose petal lips and silk skin
She had silver knives hidden as collarbones in her chest
They didn’t hurt me until she left
That summer I broke my own heart for her

Falling in love with her was easy
But accepting it was so much harder
She made me feel things I wasn’t supposed to feel

The first time she kissed me was magic
She ghosted her lips across mine
And I didn’t know it had happened
Until it was over
I can still taste the coffee from her lips

My autumn girl
Your heart was filled with wild flowers
You said you’d never change the world
But in one summer you changed mine
To this day I don’t remember how to get back to where I was without you

I've bled them dry,
How fine how fine,

For once in their eyes,
They now hold no life.

Nor apple seed bloom,
Nor mannequin beheld.

Always too soon,
to be put on the shelf.

Truth is not beautiful
When spoken without thought
This was not a treasure chest
I held the key for
Rather one I found propped open
It was not earned
Nor mine to claim
Yet I find myself filling my pockets
With the trinkets and gold
That come tumbling out of your mouth
Ground between teeth
Leaving your speech unintelligible
I will bury this beneath my own treasure
Leaving a map for you
To never use