poetry
frees the soul
that
give us
wings of gold
and
the
words that we hold
if the eyes
never sleep

The way he talks reminds me
Of the Ocean
Because its so in
*Depth

In your eyes, I see the luster of the stars
And the loneliness of the moon.

I would love you like an ocean. I would shift into a tidal wave for the shore of your hands. You would shape yourself into me like the sand does for the sea.

I would love you like a warm fire on a cold Sunday afternoon. I would warm your cold fingertips after a weary week. You would feel the wisps of my hair on your warm skin like the wisps of a comforting flame, and we would be at home.

I would open up your veins and set up shop inside each and every chamber of your heart. I would run my fingers along the lining of your soul and show you that you cannot stain my skin black, that I will not let you, that you are as much of a map as I am and that I will walk brave into the unknown and place my palm on the essence of you.

I would make myself a river basin for you. You could pour yourself into me and I would not send you back to the clouds. Let me be your anchor, let me pull you down into the embrace of my arms, let me calm you down and kiss you into a fervor and make you a home in the fresh white skin of my scars.

I would love you with so much force and equally as much softness. Just let me.