She was Old Man River
Could I keep up?
Elle a été au-delà de ma portée
Could I touch the sun?
Notice the tense of my writing?
At the moment we travel an untouched
Road just we two, with the present time
And memories of the moment that I
Dared to touch the her burning star.
And we're looking forward to a future of
Many things that have gathered dust.
Where we thrive in engaging with
The forgotten, and the unlearned things
Of the unconquered hearts love.

For a moment I pause.
Ink from this broken pen
Held ‘tween my fingers bleeds
And stains into my skin.
Now the fateful thought,
That the pen is reminiscent
Of this poets heart akin a wingless
butterfly. My soul that cannot fly.

In her eyes
He is beautiful.
He is the fullness of a word that she will never find.
The one word that would perfectly describe
His handsomeness, his very essence,
His charm, and ardent presence.
He is the pink within her life.
His is the warmth that melts her mind
and sets the butterflies in her heart to fly.
Sets the wings of her heart to spread
that she might fly to his light.
He is the Helios to her Clytie
He is the star to which her songbird heart sings.
She is tuned into his key.
She blushes when he puts his lips
to hers and sets her face to glowing.
Sets her heart to soaring.
She doesn’t know the word to describe
the feeling he gives her. The word that
captures what he is to her what he is in her life.
But she knowss there was never a better feeling
before he stepped into her life.

A bit of love
With a side of champagne
In our garden.
Just a single taste
Of you and I imagine,
I daydream, of such a day.

I want to be
Your favorite memory
And every fantasy.
The reason for the light in your eye
The one for whom your heart beats.
I want to be
With you in practice
Of futari.
Covered in your ardent
Deep sea.
I want to be your everything.
The way you are for me.
I want with you to simply…
Be.