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[You] are the whisper
          that
floats
        on
the
           wind,
giving me a hope
I never want to end.

[You] are my wish
            from
                a
                         ­     falling
                                          star,
    ­     my lucky penny
in that old glass jar.

[You] are my heart
        that
gentle
            caress,
touching me deep
with such tenderness.

[You] are the shine
      from
that
             silver
         moon,
the word of your promise
a faithful love tune.

[You] are my sun
a
        true
                loving
                       ­ light,
                      stay in my heart
forever shining bright.
~

She was the

type of girl

who breathed in stars, and

spit out

constellations.


*Sandoval

We are worriers
And
We are warriors.

Behold,
The embers of the sky,
Telling myths, a winters night,
Winds blowing, trees bowing,
Often, they whispered a voice,
Warming toes, a freezing nose,
An aurora, a sight out of coast.

Behold,
Each glory of design,
Sparkles wooingly outshine,
An epitome of colors playing,
Often seeking its own grand,
Forming from an artist hand,
Someone will but no one can.

Behold,
As memories out spores,
Bound of keys, tied with thee,
A Moet of an enduring heart,
Sprung out of an idled dream,
A man-woman of abstract art,
Weaving as embers sky depart.

There is a certain Beauty in Brokenness
And Purpose in Pain.

'beautiful', she thinks,
'open up your walls to me,
let me see within.'

Her lips
Taste
Like
S t a r s

And
When I
Kiss them
I'm
B u r n e d